Batman: Year Zer0 (revised)
by Alitolexlto
Summary: Eighteen years in Gotham...Eighteen long years of fighting crime for the sake of Gotham. The strain has begun to taken its toll. The war on crime continues on...terror is but a whisper in the smog. And so...I still I stand to be Gotham's Knight...that is until that day...the day men fell from the sky...the day I realized what I really was...a hunter. (revised version) (DCEU canon)
1. Year One

Bruce Wayne Journal Log. Day: January 13.

It has officially been a year since I had returned to Gotham City after a lengthy absence. The wind—still cold and dry from the polluted smoke of the scum that reside within the crevices they were molded from. This will be my first and probably last entry into this journal for a very long time. Alfred said I should express my thoughts in a more orderly manner when not on the prowl at night. He says it'll keep me from becoming too…submerged. I didn't question him—how could I? He wasn't too far from the truth. Every night I step into the role I've crafted to thrive in _that_ world, I can feel myself…see myself…become less and less of what I use to be. The existence of Bruce Wayne is beginning to feel like a distant stranger. All his emotions, his memories, his pain; it's nothing but a program that's been crudely stitched into my new subconscious—almost like a trigger that reacts to the slightest detection of this _new_ existence enveloping me…and damn it all, that trigger had to be in the form of a memory… _that_ memory.

But who knows; maybe that's what this city needs…maybe it's what _I_ need. Those moments when I put on the cowl, when I see the fear in their eyes before they lose themselves to their own consciousness—it's in those moments that I can feel a rush of vindication through my veins. For months I had wondered why I felt this strange thirst for fear…until I realized that it wasn't their fear I enjoyed, but rather something deeper than that.

It was the gun man.

I look into many a criminals' eyes and see in them the gun man who had stolen everything from me. But it's not his reflection I see…It's my own. I see the personification of the fear, rage, and loneliness I felt that night—draped in a black bat-like cowl and the years of darkness that kept it together. The gun man's beautiful, twisted masterpiece brought to life. I am his mural; continuously forced to display his work to multiple on-lookers just like him in a never-ending cycle. There are most likely many more of his masterpieces, but none will ever be as glorious as me. I am his legacy to be passed down even after death for generations to come. They will marvel at this exquisite work of art with both applause…and terror. I am the torture he will keep in his mind. No other artwork will ever be as good as I.

I _am_ his greatest masterpiece: _The child of Loss and a Dark Rebirth._

I hear sirens. They sound close. All I need to do is look bellow the tallest building I currently stood on to see them. It's not surprising to hear them at this time of night, when the clock hits midnight. As I've already written, this will be my first and possibly last entry into this journal for a long time.

For Gotham needs me once again. It's time for the gun man's greatest masterpiece to spread his wings once again.


	2. January: The Dark Knight

**JANUARY: EIGHTEEN YEARS LATER**

From the peak of the ocean far yonder, the sun began to set on the bleak and shadowy city of Gotham. The dwindling light bathed the concrete jungle in illumination with a creeping gaze. The once bright city, slowly yielded to the deepest crevices of filth as night came. The streets were riddled with old newspapers and liter—gas guzzling cars speeding down the streets from meaningless jobs. The people resembled ants in a row on the sidewalks with chatter and gossip to share with one another, while others who were unfortunate to not have a home to go back to, sat in the dark pockets of the many alleyways of Gotham, dreading the dangers that awaited them once nightfall came.

There was a growing motto for Gotham City that was becoming popular; _at least you can't get any lower._

Despite its dreary atmosphere that seemed to envelop the city with its smag, one tower stood high among the hustling streets of the city; starring at the orange-colored sky in the presence of the setting sun; Wayne Tower.

And who else to be standing before the stainless glass windows—almost perching over like vulture, then Wayne enterprise's very own; Bruce Wayne.

Dressed in the best black suit money could buy; his sense of style was only complimented by his mature, and devilish good looks that has aged with him like fine wine. Even in his early forties, this refined gentleman looked to be in top physical form, with a body that would make any girl swoon. This coupled with his intelligence, his smooth tongue, and his desire to help Gotham city out of the slump it's resided in for years, makes him the complete packaged _man of the year_.

No one could touch him...not that anyone hasn't _tried_. With success breeds obstacles—Many of which have threatened him, attempted to kidnap him for ransom, and even go after his life out of vengeance, jealousy, or both. For Bruce, life never stopped, whether day or night.

And now at the age of 44, almost Nineteen years since he's returned to Gotham, he stands above the city bellow, in his swank office with a long desk and empty seats just waiting to be filled with the asses of money grubbing politicians about a recent project his company is doing.

Bruce quietly sighed at the sound of the door opening behind him, and the chattering of arrogant, wealthy men cluttering the breathable air. Nevertheless, Bruce produced his best professional smile and offered his welcome to the men in suits as the door opened.

"Gentlemen. A pleasure it is to meet you all. Welcome to Wayne enterprise." Bruce said as he walked over to greet the man in charge of the rest. "And a special welcome to you, senator Brian P. Carington. I hope your travel here was—"

"Ugh, for God's sake, Wayne, will ya save it already?" Said rudely by a white haired, pink faced man with a scowl to match his bushy mustache. He greeted Bruce with the littlest of respect by shuffling right past him as he said rudely; "I hope you don't plan on wasting my time here, Mr. Wayne. I have much more important business here in Gotham to attend to, so let's avoid the drawn out speeches you may have planned to persuade me with."

He removed his coat and took a seat in the chair at the very end where Bruce was suppose to sit. His other men followed in taking their own seats.

Bruce tried keep any facial or physical signs of annoyance to a minimum; that's how they judge you in this game of politics. He walked around and took his seat closest to where Carington sat. The many eyes barring down on him didn't intimidate him in the slightest. It's not the first time Bruce had been given such eyes both on _and_ off the clock.

"Right then. Senator, I would—"

"What? No refreshments?" Carington said with snark that earned him a few chuckles from his men.

"Well...you said so yourself; you have no time to waste, so let's cut to the chase. It _is_ getting late after all." Bruce said with his best smile, "To put it simply; I would like to proceed with my company's organization for Autism."

"Ugh, not this again..." Carington muttered under his breath while he slumped into the chair.

"Sir, I ask you—no more then at least a minimum of your support." Bruce practically pleaded. "It would barely cost you a dime. Surely you as a senator must understand the importance of helping such a just cause. My company has the essential resources needed to further the study of the Autism spectrum, and with your support, I believe we can bring it towards new heights."

Carington sighed, before propping himself back up right in his seat. "Listen here, Mr. Wayne, we've already discussed this; I just don't have enough time to be the spokesman for your charity. I've tried to set some time aside to work with you, but there's just too much other important matters that deserve my attention. Besides, what do you really need _me_ for? You're Bruce Wayne! With your money, and that slick mouth of yours, you could buy this whole damn city if you wanted to."

"Heh, I'm flattered, but with all due respect, citywide conquest isn't my style." Bruce said humbly. "I prefer to make Gotham a better place one street at a time. I would like you to be a part of that gradual growth in being my co-representative for this organization of my company. Plus, this could do some good for the both of us in more ways then one."

Carington clasped his hands together onto the table and leaned in along with the rest of his men. "I'm listening."

"Picture it for a moment; senator Brian P. Carington; the next in line as senator, in association with Wayne Enterprises to further the research of the Autism Spectrum for millions." Bruce sweetened. "We can dive deeper into this spectrum and bring about more awareness towards it, and further the growth of individuals with Autism in helping them achieve goals that were deemed impossible for them before. It will not only benefit the people, but you'll no doubt gain a favorable image by the general public in showing your support for such a worthwhile cause."

"Right, right...and there'll be money coming out of all this, right?" Carington addressed. " I mean, I'm all for helpin' the mentally ill, and all, but I wanna know I'm not pouring money in if I'm not getting any of it back in return."

"Yes yes, I can guarantee that we'll all be paid for our hardwork." Bruce waved off. "Anyway, continuing on about the positives of what autism can do—"

And this, uh, autism...I assume it's some kind of, uh, mental disease, right?" Carington figured, while looking to his men for help. "Like being retarded and trying to find a cure for them?"

"Not necessarily. You see, Autism varies from person-to-person with minor to major functions to the mind. Also, please don't use that word during promoting. We want to keep this campaign strictly PC." Bruce explained, "I also want to have as many people on board as possible, while making it more worldwide. This is where you, and your influence as a senator comes into—"

"Oooh, now I see where this is going..." Senator Carington said with a sniveling grin. "You sneaky bastard, I see what all this is about. You're just in this to get your own name in the ballet for senator, aren't you?"

"What?" Bruce said in confusion. "Senator, I assure you, that is not—"

"Save it. I thought it was a little odd to find some pompous rich boy throw away hard-earned tax payers money for some money-grubbing organization about a bunch of retards."

"Mentally challenged."

"Whatever. Now I see what your really after." Carington accused. "So what next huh? Presidency? Shall I get your slippers, Mr. President?" He began to chuckle along with the rest of his men.

Carington's chuckles stopped. The moment he did, his other men stopped along with him in a nervous trail off. Carington then reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a cigar to lite right in front of Bruce's face. He took a few puffs before blowing the smoke out to the side of him. He then set his cold, bitter stare right at the playboy billionaire as if he were an insufferable child.

"Hmm, the people, huh?" Carington spoke, "Well since you've been all cooped up in your precious tower here—sipping your fancy coffee, and stuffing your mouth with crumpets, let me tell you about _the people_ , rich boy; they're not a bunch of do-gooders who care about anybody but themselves. This isn't some game where if anyone plays by the rules and always do the right thing, they'll get far in life. It's savagery. It's a battle for who can be the king of this concrete jungle—to make yourself known to as many dimwitted neanderthals as possible. And some people will only listen to you if you speak their idiotic language. That's the same with politics, and, hell, even presidency; speak stupid, and you get the stupid to rally for you with empty promises to _make something great again_."

He took another drag of his cigar, before speaking again.

"And then you have the people who will try to pull you down into the ground with them, and tug away at every inch of your title. They'll find every little thing they can to make sure you're as miserable as them. Do you realize how pathetic some of the people out there are? Especially in a city like this with a bunch of freaks, lunatics, psychopaths, a damn clown who kills people for laughs! And don't get me started on the so-called bat, who probably doesn't even exist. All of them bring out the worst in people in this city!"

Another drag, and more smoke to fill Bruce's office with the toxic fumes.

" _THAT_ is what the so-called _people_ are, Mr. Wayne. _You_ , on the other hand, barely lift a finger while frittering your parent's fortune away on fast cars, women, and other useless, expensive bullshit while the rest of the world have to suffer to get a fraction of what you can buy with a damn check."

Bruce sighed. He could see that trying to gain support at the time was useless. Now, more then ever, he wanted Carington to just leave his office. Plus, it was getting late from the way the sun was setting outside.

"Senator Carington, I can take a hint when I see it." Bruce said in a more professional manner, and stone-cold expression, "I must say; it's quite a shame, though. I was hoping you would comply in assisting me in this deal. It would've been a nice distraction from the brewing controversy you've had looming over your head, wouldn't it?"

And like that, Bruce could see a single vein pop onto Carington's round skull. All became quiet in the office with enough silence to hear the cars down bellow the Wayne Tower outside. The deathly eyes of the Senator were sent right to Mr. Wayne. Bruce remembered that Senator Carington was recently caught under heavy fire from the drug smuggling scandal occurring in the shadows. It's been the talk of the town for at least a week with a supposed trial to be held. However it was dropped for unknown reasons to the general public. Bruce had a hunch as to what happened to the jury. The blood was clearly on the Senator's hands.

The bitter senator rose from his seat with the rest of his men bumbling about in following. "You want my advice, Mr. Wayne? Keep your mouth shut, and continue pretending you give a damn about this godforsaken city."

"I could say the same..."

Carington stopped and stared down Bruce with hardened eyes. Bruce said nothing. He did not avert his gaze from Carington's; not to be put down by some cheap form of intimidation.

"Humph. You should be careful who you're messing with, boy." Carington threatened, "Everyone's just waiting for you to croak. And one day, when you slip up, you'll realize just how infamous you _really_ are...or should I say _was._ "

And with those last words, Carington stepped out of Bruce's office with his men snickering behind him. The door closed with a harsh echo that rang across the cold, and quiet office.

Bruce sighed deeply as he slumped into his chair. He could name countless men who have walked through that door to try and put the fear of their so-called " _power_ " into him time and time again. He was beginning to be sick and tired of the same old shtick. A shame senator Carington didn't realize just how infamous _he_ himself was in Gotham.

Bruce checked his watch for the time; still only two minutes to seven. He still had an hour before he _clocked out_ , but there wasn't anything scheduled tonight that needed his urgency in Wayne tower. Besides, he needed to let off some steam from the rudeness of a guest in _his_ domain who spoke as if he were untouchable. A grave mistake to believe that _anyone_ in Gotham was untouchable.

He reached into his pocket and grabbed his cellphone to dial in a number. He held the phone to his ear and waited before someone picked up.

(Alfred) " _Evening, Master Wayne._ _I would assume your meeting went as pleasant as you'd hoped?_ "

An old voice with a tongue of the United Kingdom, and seniority spoke.

"Not quite. I couldn't get him to shake my hand." Bruce said. He rose out of his seat to look out into the setting sun over the city of Gotham. "His impatience cost me a way to track him."

(Alfred) " _Well, I'm sure you've already thought of other means to finding senator Carington other then microscopic trackers slipped into his sleeves._ "

"Couldn't hurt to try it every once in a while." Bruce said, as he turned on the heel and walked towards the door. "I'm on my way out now. I figured I'd clock out early tonight now that my meeting's done."

(Alfred) " _Do remember to stop by the manor at some point, sir. We wouldn't want a repeat of the time you went an entire three days without food._ "

"Fine. A light snack. I'll be in and out anyway. Have it ready around 2 or 3 am."

(Alfred) " _Of course, sir. It'll will be ready along with your bandages._ "

Bruce hung up as he walked out of his office to be met with a maroon colored hallway that lead to the elevator. On his left sat a receptionist at her desk with her own personal seating area, while a couch sat on the right for guests. The receptionist was a ravishing beauty in her late 30's. Bruce could almost feel sympathy for Carington and his goons for having to wait in a room drowned in the scent of throat-scorching perfume. She never was subtle with her appearance; especially in front of Bruce Wayne.

"I'm off, Caroline. You can clock out early." Bruce smiled.

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Wayne." Caroline nodded.

"Carol, you don't need to be so formal when its the two of us. You can call me Bruce."

"Y-Yes of course, Mr. Way-I-I mean Bruce. I'll see you tomorrow morning." She cleared her throat to speak more properly. "Don't forget, you have an important business meeting with the mayor of Star City early tomorrow morning. Followed by a scheduled dinner meeting with the owner of Bastion Hotel to talk about ownership over its establishment. Also there's a reporter from Metropolis who says he wanted to do an interview with you sometime tomorrow."

"Tell Oliver I'll be there, send them a check, and tell the Metropolis boy he can take a rain check." Bruce said as he strolled towards the elevator. "Thank you for the reminder, Caroline."

"Of course, Mr. Wayne."

"Caroline?" He eyed her with a small grin.

"O-Oh, I-I mean...of course, Bruce." She blushed.

"Thank you." Bruce said. The elevator doors opened and inside he stepped. "Good night, Caroline."

"G-Good night...Bruce."

The doors shut as he felt the elevator descended towards the garage. He could assume Caroline was more then thrilled to finally leave after a harsh day of taking calls under Wayne industries. The occasional threats from people big and small must riddle her nerves. he made it a point to try and accommodate her the best he could in making her experience a little easier. She usually has small talks with Bruce during lunch about her son just graduating high school and entering college. He sounded promising by the way her mother talked about him. Bruce made it a note to keep his name in mind when he graduates college in search of a job offer and ways to pay student loans.

Silence enveloped the elevator. Nothing but the humming decent of the elevator into the underground parking lot, and the chimes leading to it.

Bruce use to have fond memories of the elevator in his youth. After coming back to Wayne Enterprise, he had spent many a months going up and down the very elevator—fighting for his rightful place as owner of his father's company from a bunch of money-grubbing executives. He just could bare to see his own father's legacy, turn into just another cooperation ship that sailed on stolen money. The fight for Wayne Enterprise was as difficult as his nightly escapades, he felt. The only difference is that he, at least, won the battle for his company. The battle outside, however...

Bruce put reminiscing to the side. He loosened his tie and stood still in front of the elevator's door. He took a deep breath; synchronizing his breathing with his heart. His fist clenched tightly as his eyes grew cold with furrowed brows. His muscles tightened, while his body prepared to move into a fight-or-flight mode the lower he approached towards the garage floor.

Finally, the humming had ceased with a light tremor. The elevator had reached its final destination in the parking lot where, no doubt, Bruce had company expecting him. He pressed one of the buttons on the elevator to keep the door closed for a little while longer.

He took a knee and reached into his pocket for his cellphone. In it, he punched in a series of numbers that fulfilled another purpose other then dialing numbers. On his screen, he had gained access into one of his built-in security camera that sat directly over the parking lot elevator.

On it, Bruce could see two men standing right outside it— armed with a metal bat, and some thick rope.

The apparent ' _slip up_ ' Carington warned him of earlier.

Bruce payed very close attention to the two men; average in height and weight. No older then late 30s. No signs of heavy artillery. They were charged with taking him alive. Possible concealed weapons: knives, tasers, batons, and other easily concealable weapons. Possible martial arts skills: 20%. Distance from elevator doors: a few steps.

"Easy." Bruce mumbled.

He placed his phone in his pocket and stood back up. He went by the buttons of the elevators to push the right button to finally open the doors. This had to be quick.

He had none of his usual " _fixes_ " to fight with. All he had on him was a single smoke bomb on hand. Figured carrying a grappling hook around would arouse too much suspicion.

The button was pressed at the exact moment of the smoke bomb hitting the ground. Immediately a billow of smoke had filled the elevator as the doors slid open. Bruce held his breath long enough to at least exit the elevator and get the jump on the two goons.

He heard their hacking and coughing right in front of him. He ran into the smoke and reached for an extended arm with a bat in it. A simple fracture of his arm and a chop to the back of the neck was enough to throw him into unconsciousness. The second fell to a jab in his deltoid that rendered his arm useless, and a hue kick to his diaphragm.

The smoke slowly began to clear. Before Bruce's feet laid two unconscious bodyguards.

Bruce adjusted his tie before crouching down to one of the goons for their cellphone. He looked in it and searched the numbers until he found the name he was looking for; _Carington_. Before he called, he connected the small phone to a tether from his own—just in case Carington spills something he shouldn't have.

(Carington) "Hello? _You better be callin' me about what suit I want rich boy buried in when you bring him here!_ "

Bruce held the phone to his shoulder while he pressed down on his Adam's apple and clenched his nose. "Uh, boss, we got 'em!" Bruce said in his most convincing imitation of a goon. "He was easy."

(Carington) _"No surprise he was, you idiots! He's just a snot-nosed lil brat! Now listen, right;_ _I need you dopes to bring him over to me. We'll use him for ransom to send to the butler, and he'll hand over Bruce Wayne's entire fortune for his precious money child. Once we get paid, put a bullet in Wayne, and his butler when all's said and done. Now get 'em over here before anyone sees you two._ "

"On it, boss." Bruce mimicked. "Uuh...sorry, boss, but, uh...we forgot where you guys are again..."

(Carington) "Oh, for the love of—it's over at Warehouse B-5! The last one on the right of Dixie street!"

"Got it! Hey, we doin' a drug move soon, or what?"

"Ugh! Where do they find these idiots? Yeah, the drug move is tonight! Now get over here with Wayne, or I'll make so that you bozos will be so deep in debt, you're grandchildren's children will be paying for it!"

"Y-Yes, boss...!" Bruce hung up the phone and placed it in his back pocket for later usage. Just as he figured, this was another attempt at kidnapping that would be used to rob him of his fortune, and then finish him off. A typical weekend for the billionaire.

Bruce reached into his pocket to once again call Alfred.

"You get all that?" Bruce asked in his normal voice.

 _(Alfred) "Every word, sir. At least we've confirmed Senator Carington's ghastly operation behind the scenes."_

"That's not all..." Bruce said, while searching through the pockets of one of the thugs for more clues.

Luckily, he had found the small nugget that turned this dirty little secret of Carington's, into a full-blown red alert. It was a small zippo lighter of silver with an emblem that hasn't been seen in Gotham for a long time; a single, blooming rose.

"Falcone." Bruce said.

 _(Alfred) "As in Carmine Falcone? I haven't heard that name since Halloween, many years ago."_

"Yeah, that was quite the long Halloween..." Bruce reminisced. "...but Carmine's dead; was killed by his son."

 _(Alfred) "Then could it be his son? Alberto Falcone?"_

"Doubt it." Bruce protested. "He's been locked up in Arkham ever since his 'Holiday' murders years ago. And even if he _was_ out and about, the last thing he'd want is to once again be in his father's shadow."

 _(Alfred) "Then an impostor using Falcone's calling card."_

"Wouldn't be the first time..."

 _(Alfred) "Anyway, I've sent you the coordinates to the Warehouse B-5."_

"Good. It's time to pay them a visit."

Bruce walked back into the elevator and closed it behind him. Rather then use the buttons for going up or down, he instead presses combination of buttons: 1,0,4,8. Behind Bruce opened another door that revealed the only other suit he would ever need to wear.

Bruce had removed himself of his suit n tie, and put himself into a grey, full-body, carbon fiber tri-weave one, with a pair of of black, armored gloves with 3 protruding blades, and brass built into the knuckles. Around his waist was a bronze/gold colored utility belt of pouches and a grapnel gun attached to the back of the belt, while on his feet were black, padded boots that were steal toed. On the chest of the suit was a black, giant bat symbol with its wings sprawled out to match the theme of its bat-like cowl made of a thick rubber material with metal armor underneath, and pointed ears. And lastly was the large black, scalloped cape that was slightly tattered.

Once Bruce had finally slipped the cowl onto his head, he finally felt that strange sense of familiarity once again envelop him. The comfortable feeling of the suit secured onto his body, and the warm embrace of the cowl on his face; all were the security he needed to do what needed to be done for Gotham city.

He was no longer Bruce Wayne. He had become something more; the Dark Knight _—The Batman._

* * *

Carington sat back in his office—door locked and no windows to open. The room itself was small and narrow with one a single source of light from above being a light bulb. He had his feet up on his desk, tapping his fingers on said desk in anticipation of seeing Gotham's biggest bachelor's head as his personal punching bag. His patience was beginning to wear thin for how long it could possibly take to grab a damn dead body and bring it to a friggin' warehouse. The incompetent lackeys couldn't even get that right it seemed.

To pass the time, he figured he'd have a little fun of his own. A small snort of his hidden side business wouldn't hurt.

Before he could enjoy himself, a knock rattled his door. In an annoyed grunt, he allowed the door to be opened. One of his personal thugs armed with a AK-47 strolled in. He didn't seem to fear the senator, and only looked at him with very little patience.

"Sir, we're just about ready to move the weight." The thug said, "If I was you, I'd start makin' my way to the truck."

"Ugh, please." Carington said without a care in the world. "We're located in a secluded warehouse that hasn't been messed with for ages. And if anyone even get's close to snooping around here, you guys know what to do. Now, I ain't goin' no where, until I see that bratty pretty boy, Wayne's throat in my goddamn hands."

"And the Falcone deal?" The thug reminded him.

"Probably just some poser whose lookin' to make a name for himself." Carington figured. "Whoever they are, they offered me some of Falcone's old mafia men to protect this place, so I'll at least hear him out when he gets here."

"But sir, I'm tellin' ya we should go before—"

"Hey! Buddy! You gonna keep talking, or am I gonna have to pull some strings to make you Public Enemy #1?" Carington threatened. " _I'll_ say we go when I'm good n' ready! Now beat it!"

The thug gave him the stink eye, before turning on his heel and walking right back out the door; closing it behind him.

"That's what I thought..." Carington mumbled arrogantly. " _No_ one threatens me. Not thugs, not this city...and definitely not _you_ , Wayne...!"

He took a seat back as he pulled out a special little box from under his desk, and opened it to reveal a single zip lock bag of white powder. A great big grin formed on his face as he starred at it with mesmerized eyes.

"Heh heh heh~ Like hell I'm gonna pass _this_ up..." He mumbled happily. "...'plus I got guns pointed on all sides. Whose gonna be crazy enough to come _here_ lookin' for a fight?"

* * *

The night was quiet—the unsettling, far off roars of thunder threatening to bring forth rain. The faint scent of rain become more pervasive.

After minutes of flying across the sky, he had finally landed onto a rooftop that over-looked his destination; a small warehouse that sat secluded within the confines of other towering buildings. Some would think it was the perfect place to do shady business without any suspicions. However, it only made it that much more easier for the Dark Knight to keep an eye on it.

Batman pushed a small button on the side of his cowl and his visible eyes were shielded with a glowing lens. Batman could see the skeletons of at least twenty hostiles all armed with heavy artillery in hand, from Ak-47's to more military based assault rifles.

 **"I'm here, Alfred."**

His voice had become more deeper, and modified to project that of a demons to instill fear onto his foes.

 _(Alfred) "There seems to be a small number of them. Not a lot of men to protect a senator..."_

 **"It's to not arouse suspicion. More men would mean more attention."**

 _(Alfred) "A few of them have roses on their shirts. No doubt old members of Falcone's gang."_

 **"They'll go down just the same. I'll need you to deactivate all main security system to the building."**

(Alfred) _"Then I would assume you'd like me to turn the lights off as well, sir?"_

 **"You read my mind, Alfred."**

(Alfred) " _I always do. Good luck, Master Wayne._ "

* * *

Waiting inside the warehouse, the gang of burly men armed to the teeth with heavy artillery in arms, lounged around idly, while waiting for Bruce Wayne to show up in one of their companion's car. Some played a round of arm wrestle, while others played a bit of poker for keeps. A beer here and there to tie them over, but not enough to get them all hammered on the job. They all sat in a large room that was unused for decades it seemed. The crates surrounding them stacked almost to the ceiling. The thunder rumbling from outside only added a small hint of anxiety to their nerves.

A small pop noise was heard by one of the goons, who had brought his gun up in an irrational jolt of fear as he looked around for anything. He took a deep sigh to luckily discover that there was no sign of anything strange.

"Hey, careful where you point that thing, eh?" Another lackey said walking up to him.

"Heh, s-sorry 'bout dat..." He replied with a nervous grin. "J-Just a lil on edge...that's all..."

"On edge? About what?" He asked.

"Y-Yknow..." He came in close as his eyes flashed around before he whispered, "T-The B-B...T-The B-B-B-Ba...Th-The Ba—"

"Who? The Bat Man?"

"H-Hey! Don't just say dat name out loud!" He whispered even louder between the two of them. He looked out to see if there were a few people who heard him say the name. Luckily only a few of them did while the rest continued to do their own thing.

"Dude, relax. We got plenty a goons here to take out the Bat freak easily." The man assured his partner. "What's one guy gonna do against 20 of us, huh?"

"N-Naw you don't get it pal! I use to work for Falcone back in the day..." He said shakily, "T-This guy ain't like no other kind a guy...! He's like some kinda black shadow that swoops all 'round and junk. A-And the worst part is that ya never see 'em comin'!"

"Pfft! Yeah, right. As if some freak in a costumes gonna take us all out by himself. What a load a shi—"

His words were stolen from him at sudden snap of the lights above them. Every single gun had become cocked as each of the men all stood at the ready for whatever threat was imminent around them. The only lights left now were the faintly-lite emergency lights that did little to bring anything to the shrouds of darkness all around them.

"The hell? Hey what's—"

The sound a fast whooshing sound and the yelp of one of their men had suddenly caught the goons off guard. Every single one of them turned towards the dark corner of a bunch of stacked crates. The man standing there had vanished out of thin air with the only thing left of him was the cigarette he dropped.

The men who saw his disappearance slowly approached that location with guns at the ready.

"H-Hey...you there, man...?" One of them called.

No answer.

Not a single sound could be heard from him. The room was silent with the sounds of rain pelting the entire warehouse from outside, and the thunder rumbling in the distance. Suddenly their minds began to play tricks on them; making them hear sounds that weren't really there. The faint, haunting whispers of the unknown slowly crept up their spines. Every tiny movement was now on the look out.

"Whoa!"

All the guns were suddenly pointed towards the loan man who shouted out.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Calm down, boys! Ain't nothin'!" He pleaded, "My gun just made some weird poppin' noise..."

"T-That was one of the sounds!" The worried gun man exclaimed fearfully. "T-That was one of them signs dat he was here! He's shuttin' off all our guns!" He began to panic as he looked around like a sniveling child afraid of the dark with gun in hand. "H-He's here, man! I tell ya he's here! He's already he—"

His words chocked as a thick black rope wrapped around his neck and gripped tightly. His allies could only react a millisecond before he was immediately hoisted up into shadows above them.

One of them pointed their guns up towards the pitch black ceiling and pulled the trigger expecting bullets to lash out. However he was shocked to discover that nothing had blasted out of the barrel.

"The hell? My gun's busted!" He exclaimed.

"Whaddaya mean it's busted?-!" One of the other goons yelled. "I don't...huh?" He checked his own, only to discover that his gun had malfunctioned as well.

Soon they all discovered their guns had been disabled from shooting a single round; almost as if something had gotten stuck.

A strike of lightning had flashed a bright light through the window and in the darkness of the roof was the panicking henchman who was now tied up and hung on the roof like a pinata, unconscious.

"Ah shi—"

Once again, words had been ripped out of another one's mouth as he too was hoisted away out of no where, and thrown deep into the shadows that surrounded them all. Out of instinct, they all pointed their guns at every direction, despite them realizing that they were defective.

Once again, all was quiet. Not a single sound had peeped into the spacious room of crates that began to cast shadows over them. The air grew cold like a winter's night, giving an intense shiver down each of the goon's spines. The dread was so thick that it was visible to cut through.

"Q-Quick! Go tell the boss! Tell 'em that we gotta—"

An loud explosion had suddenly erupted from under the very man's feet as he was suddenly grabbed by his ankle and immediately pulled down into the floorboards like a demon out of hell.

in his absence, the strange black figure had appeared from the hole and moved almost as fast as a shadow. No one could keep their eyes on this sudden blitz of brutality that had taken the form of a black shroud. It single-handedly fought and beat down each and every one of the goons in a whirlwind of speed and agility to dominate them all in a matter of seconds.

By the time the last one could do anything, he was suddenly held by his neck up into the air. His other men all laid out across the ground or brutally thrown into other crates. It all happened so fast that the poor sap didn't even get the chance to react fast enough.

Instead he stared into the eyes of a mad man dressed in a bat outfit...but his presence, his aura; it was something not human at all.

 **"Where's Carington?** **You have till the count of three to answer."**

"O-Or what, huh?-!" He exclaimed frightfully, "Y-You gonna kill me like ya killed my team?-!"

 **"No, I'll make you wish you were dead."**

Batman dropped the man and grabbed his hand. Batman's thumb pushed forward onto the thugs pinky until it bent as far back as it could before it broke.

 **"Where. Is. Carington?"**

"W-Wait! N-No, I can't tell ya that! H-He'll ki—GUAAAAAAGH!-!"

 **"One..."**

Batman pushed his thumb onto his ring finger—a horrendous screech of a yell had emerged from the thug's mouth.

"Oh come on now! I can't tell ya—AUGAAAAGH!-!"

 **"Two..."**

"P-Please! No more! I-I'll talk! I'll talk!" The thug yelled in pain. "H-He's in a private office! Down the hall behind that door! I swear!"

Batman was a bit dissapointed. Most would last to at least four broken fingers. The thug pointed towards the door over by the other side of the room.

 **"Thank you. Now you can sleep."**

The last moments the poor thug saw was a black-gloved fist flying right into his face before being knocked out.

* * *

 _[_ _INSIDE THE OFFICE_ _]_

Carington's face went pale. He had heard heavy commotion coming from down the hall a few moments ago before dead silence. He heard the shrieks and screams of his men as if they were being tortured mercilessly. After which all had gone so silent that he could hear a pen drop. His heart began to beat erratically as his eyes darted around his small office like flies.

Suddenly he could hear faint footsteps approaching his door. A slow, echoing pace that antagonized Carington's nerves deeply, to the point of hearing collective whispers in his own head. He didn't know if it was the cocaine he had just snorted taking its affect on his psyche, but he began to feel a presence all around him; the walls were closing in on him with each step that grew louder and louder. He quickly ran behind his desk and pulled out a brand new 22 handgun. He shakily pointed it towards the door while breathing through his teeth harshly.

"Shit...! Shit...!" He hissed, streams of spit dripping down his fat lips.

Suddenly the lights went out. He gasped deeply as he breathed in and out through his mouth. All was silent as he stood there in the dark and cramped room that trapped him in uncertainty.

The light quickly flickered on and off with the darkness lasting longer then the light.

With every flicker, he looked around within the light, and prayed the darkness would illuminate as quick as possible.

It was an unfortunate stroke of taking his eye off the door for a split second that the light had been on. If only he had done so, he would have made it out without being scared within an inch of his life. But in that mil second that he detected the sudden presence of another in the room, it was already too late.

His scream echoed through out the building as the lightning roared across the dark, rainy sky.

* * *

...

...

...

.. **p**...

... **ke up**...

 **"Wake up."**

"Ugh...w-what...?"

Carington's eyes opened to nothing but darkness with a strange hue of light. He could feel himself dangling by his body being held upside down and the blood rushing to his head. He could hear the far off sounds of cars driving by. The rain was coming down; soaking his entire body to the bone even under his suit. Rain drops slid down his cheek and into his nostrils. He heard the scuffles of feet tracking on asphalt below him.

"W-What's happening...?"

 **"Senator Carington; ex. Military operative turned senator of the state. You were recently involved in a drug controversy that almost cost you your seat in the senate. However you were pardoned due to no jury appearing the day you were held under trial, resulting in your case being closed and all investigations of your activities dropped. I wonder where those witnesses were? Were they late? Did they get cold feet? Or were they, like Bruce Wayne, going to** **go for a ride in the trunk of your goons' car? I'm sure the Supreme Court will want to hear about this."**

"H-How do you know about all that?-!" Carington screamed frantically.

Carington heard the click of a button, and a familiar voice play;

 _"No surprise he was, you idiots! He's just a snot-nosed lil brat! Now listen, right;_ _I need you dopes to bring him over to me. We'll use him for ransom to send to the butler, and he'll hand over Bruce Wayne's entire fortune for his precious money child. Once we get paid, put a bullet in Wayne, and his butler when all's said and done. Now get 'em over here before anyone sees you two._ "

Another click was heard, and the recording turned off. Suddenly Carington was sweating bullets. His secret had been revealed about the jury's disappearance. Not only that, but because he was found in a warehouse filled with drugs, it only made the situation even worse for him.

Y-You can't...! You can't do this to me! I'll kill you! I'll kill you, you son of a bitch!-!" Carington raged almost maniacally. "You think I won't find you?-! I'll snuff you out like the others, you freak!"

 **"Before that, I want to tell me what you know about Falcone."**

"What?-! Falcone been dead and gone for years!" Carington yelled. "Whoever this guy whose usin' their name is just some pretender! Probably some punk lookin' to take credit from the past's glory! That's all! Now let me go before I kill you!"

 **"You're no longer in any position to make threats...I'll leave** _this_ **and him to you, commissioner."**

"Appreciate it, Batman."

Suddenly Carington had dropped from his hanging and fell right to the hard ground. The impact was enough to bruise his arm and even sprain his rib. He groaned painfully, but was quickly pulled up from the ground roughly by two arms holding his own. The blindfold had finally come off the the blinding lights of the red and blue.

"Well hello there, senator Carington..." Said an aging male's voice with a slight Chicago lingo.

Once Carington's eyes slowly adjusted back to normal, he could see the voice belonged to and elderly man no older then his early 60's with salt n pepper colored hair and thick rimmed glasses. His thick mustache sat on the top of his smirking lip, and his trench coat was damp in the heavy rain. In his hand was a recording device that he waved playfully.

"Name's commissioner Gordon. Why don't we take a lil trip down to the station? i'm sure we'd love to hear more about your _activities_."

Carington's pleading howls echoed through the brick walls of the alleyway as Batman stood over the rooftop, peering over the edge. Senator Carington was being hauled into the back of a police car, and headed straight for GCPD. Hopefully he'll use the time in prison to rethink his mistakes.

if not... _he'll_ be watching.

* * *

Batman stood perched on the edge of one of the gargoyles that overlooked the rest of Gotham. As it was, the night felt uneventful. He was able to prevent a missing billionaire fiasco, thwarted a drug deal, and solved the shady disappearances of the lost testimonies against Senator Carington—all while also discovering remnants of the Falcone family still roaming in the shadows. Still, something told him that this ' _Falcone_ ' uprising wasn't what it seemed.

A small time drug deal wasn't the Falcones' style. They were always more of the ones to make a large statement in the criminal world. If this really were an imposter, then they're very sloppy with how to run things. The _real_ Falcone would've held a drug deal in plain sight; at an extravagant party that would act as a distraction, so that his deals wouldn't be suspected. Batman would've figured it out easily, but that still felt more to Falcone's ways.

This felt sloppy, _too_ sloppy for the name Flacone.

 **"It's not Falcone...then who?"**

 **" _W_** _ho indeed?_ **"**

Batman wasn't startled. In fact, he was more then aware of the hidden presence standing behind him on the rainy rooftop. He'd been so use to sneak attacks, and hidden cloak-n-dagger tactics, that he had grown a sixth sense to it. Batman stood up from the gargoyle and walked back onto the rooftop to join his mysterious new guest.

 **"Who are you?"**

 _ **"A** n audience **."**_ The strange man said with a deep, thunderous voice.

The man strolled from the shadows to reveal himself unto the Dark Knight. He was a man of similar stature and physical peek as the Dark Knight. His outfit consist of a full-body black kevlar suit with a purple utility belt And golden, armored gauntlets that resembled a knights. Around his neck was a long, flowing cape cape that flapped in the raining wind. And to top off the knight-like theme, he concealed his face in a strange, purple knight's cowl with dual prongs acting as his pointed ears similar to Batman's cowl.

 _" **I** t is an honor to meet you, Batman."_ He said with a bow. _" **I** am Prometheus."_

 **"I take it _you're_ the one whose using the Falcone's name."**

 _" **C** orrect."_ Prometheus nodded. " ** _Y_** _ou see,_ _I've watched you for some time now **. Y** our dedication to eradicating criminal and protect your precious city is admirable **...b** ut a lost cost **."**_

Batman remained silent. The least he could do was hear what this mysterious person had to say before restraining him and delivering him to GCPD.

 _ **"W** hy continue to A losing battle **? T** he more you continue to seek out this escapism of 'justice', the stronger your demons will become, and the harder you will eventually fall into your own madness, and demise. **I** s that truly the legacy you wish to leave behind? **"**_

 **"If this is your convoluted way of trying to scare me, you're going to have to do better then that."**

The strange knight signed. ** _"I_** _had a feeling that would be your answer_ ** _. I_** _warn you, Dark Knight; y_ _our blind obsession with justice will be your doom._ ** _"_**

He began to walk to his left and towards the edge of the building. Batman reached within his cape for his grapnel gun in case he tried to escape.

 _ **"I** n the eighteen years you've been Gotham's protector, you believe that you are a liberator of crime and the unjust **...B** ut this is a lie **."**_

Prometheus stood on the edge of the building to look down at the brightly lite city below him. For a moment, he stood in silence. Batman assumed contemplation, or devising his own plan to escape.

 _ **"L** ook at them; they scurry down there like rodents **. T** hey know nothing of where they stand in the primordial food chain. **T** here was even a time where you and I were once cattle like them. **H** owever, we; you and I, climbed our way out of that pit of filth, and now stand above them like gods. **N** ow, we may be the ones to cast our judgement on those we see fit. __**T** his city is a cesspool of corruption, greed, and filth_ _._ _**I** t is a never ending battle for the throne, and with the goal in mind to drag you into the mud to claim it **."**_

For a moment, Batman remembered similar words to what Carington spoke. It was no coincidence that they correlated so similarly. Whether there was truth to their statements or not, The Dark Knight did not let his words twist his own sense of duty to Gotham.

" _ ** **THIS**** is the city you are trying to protect, Batman ** **.** Y**ou may try to defeat each and every criminal name, but it will never end...not unless you be the **true judge** of them all **."**_

 **"I've heard enough."**

Batman moved swiftly in to action by pointing his grapnel gun at Prometheus. He pulled the trigger as the wire darted right towards the mystery knight like a bullet from a handgun.

However, the grapnel was immediately swatted out of the way by Prometheus and, what appeared to be, a customized nightstick with an electric charge surrounding it. It also looked to have many other enhancements to it that were obviously home grown tech, mixed with military grade manufacturing.

This certainly took the Dark Knight by surprise to see someone other then him with similarly advanced gadgets, but not enough to take him out of focus. He quickly reached for his batarangs that he had in the slits of his fingers, ready to throw.

 ** _"W_** _ait, Dark Knight."_ Prometheus stopped with a raised hand. **"U** _nderstand that I do not wish to fight...not yet. **A** s I said; I only come here as an audience."_

 **"That's what they all say. I'm warning you here and now; turn yourself in, or I _will_ hunt you down."**

Prometheus said nothing right away, and only stared at Batman. It was as if he had expected better from the Dark Knight in daring to come after him. Prometheus put away his nightstick onto his hip, and slowly turned back towards the city below, before he gave another deep sigh.

 ** _"I_** _see_ _...so be it_ ** _. I_** _tried to reason with you...but you left me no choice._ _"_ He said threateningly, **_"B_** _y the end of this year, we will see if you still hold true to that resolve._ ** _I_** _will continue to watch you as you attempt to try and save your precious city._ ** _I_** _will observe the criminals you spare for the so-called 'greater good'. **A**_ _nd when the final bell tolls, and Gotham is reduced to absolute rubble_ ** _, I_** _will be there_ — _standing above the highest tower, as the vermin below with thank and praise..._ ** _Prometheus."_**

Without warning, the knight took a single step and leaped off of the edge of the building, followed by a whipping sound of a cape below. Batman ran towards the edge as well, only to see absolutely nothing in the air, or below. It was as if he had vanished into thin air without a trace.

Batman stood there, drenched in rain as lighting cracked across the sky. The words that Prometheus spoke of Gotham may have come out as nothing but pretentious nonsense...but in an unprecedented way, he was right. This city _is_ a jungle—filled to the brim with prey and carnivores ready to pounce. Batman knew that it was only a matter of time before something worse arrived to create the dystonia that many have awaited for the city. Batman knew something was coming—a force of nature to shake Gotham like an Earthquake in the night. All he could do as of now was to prepare for its wake.

Batman looked down at the city from above. He saw the same view as Prometheus did, and couldn't help but understand just what he prattled on about. Even _he_ couldn't deny that there was a certain power to standing high above the rest of Gotham's civilians. They could not begin to fathom the feeling of being able to stand against the untouchable criminal scum of the city's underbelly, and knock them off of their high horse, and into Arkham Asylum or Blackgate. However, the difference between him and Prometheus, was that Batman only sought out justice and order; to prevent death from overtaking his city and falling into chaos. Now, more then ever, he would need to continue this goal now more then ever, until Prometheus is stopped. This was the year to do so.

 **"Alfred."**

 _(Alfred) "I heard everything that lunatic said. As it stands, I did a full search on this 'Prometheus' fellow."_

 **"And?"**

 _(Alfred) "I can dreadfully say that...he is not one to be taken lightly. He's made quite a name for himself in parts of the country's criminal underworld as ruthless, blood-thirsty, and an absolute discrepancy for torturing those he deems as the law."_

 **"Another cop killer."**

 _(Alfred) "Oh, sir...you don't know the half of it. This man has decimated S.W.A.T teams, dismantled entire police departments, and has even been able to single-handedly massacre an entire room of militia and military alike. Whatever he has planned for Gotham, I can only fear for the safety of the people."_

 **"We'll get through this."**

 _(Alfred)" I do hope so, Master Wayne...A shame really...Gotham use to be such a smaller place."_

For a moment, Batman contemplated how Gotham use to be compared to now.

 **"Gotham's the same as it always was, Alfred...nothing's changed."**

 _(Alfred) "Oh, sir...everything's changed."_


	3. February: The Sins of the Pyg

**_FEBUARY_**

Another cold night in the danger pit known as Gotham.

On nights like this, people say it's the ever-looming chill of another immoral sin on the streets. But describing one action as the worst act in Gotham was like trying to pick the most rotten apple from a basket of bad ones. What sin could be considered so distraught and mortifying that it is considered top priority as the worst thing to happen in such a defecating city like Gotham?

Whatever it was, nine times out of ten, it had something to do with Gotham's own—Arkham Asylum.

A towering, gothic psychiatric hospital that stands more like a looming castle on the outskirts of the city. It sits separated from the rest of society and is said to contain the howls of the haunted. However the howls don't reside from something as superstitious as ghost, but rather the shrills and screams of the inmates stuck within their cells like caged rats.

As of tonight, however, Akrham was not an Asylum anymore. The very order of Arkham was shifted within one night. It was now nothing but terror behind those metal gates. Something has shifted in the scale of power to create a foundation of dead bodies inside.

This strange outbreak gathered enough attention for the officials to cut off all entrances and exits to Arkham for the safety of the men and women of GCPD. Not that anyone would be crazy enough to willingly go _into_ Arkham Asylum during a hostile takeover in the first place. They'd be better off spending an hour in a lions den then go in there. The police cars and S.W.A.T trucks gathered around Arkham's towering fence with flashing police lights the moment they received reports about this odd yet almost predictable phenomenon.

Luckily one of those reports reached the right man for the job.

In fact, he was already _in_ Arkham…Or technically speaking, _below_.

* * *

Deep underground in the dripping caverns of what was once a secret tunnel way for runaway slaves back when Arkham Asylum was a plantation settlement, a lone Batman had strolled through the murky water of possible feces and whatever else had been flushed down the toilets. He believed he had come across at least three or four internal organs and fingers floating in small puddles. The stench made it even more prevalent that he was getting closer towards an entry point into the actual asylum. As he treads through the murky waters with night vision lenses, he wondered just what new Hell had opened itself into the Asylum _this_ time?

It wasn't out of the ordinary for Arkham Asylum to be under ' _new management'_ at some point or another. Just last year, there was a hostile takeover of the entire facility that took three whole nights to regain. Most of the past workers, guards, and psychiatrist were either held hostage, or killed. Batman considered it to be a living nightmare—so many lives lost, and some driven to complete insanity. It got so bad for some of the people innocent people involved that some workers ended up becoming patients themselves. In the end, he was at least able to save 25 out of 30 hostages, and return over 100 inmates back to their cells; including the ones from his usual rogue gallery of villains.

And who better to have been the ringleader of it all then the one man who was crazy enough to create the chaos as a distraction for his own escape. The most dangerous and top priority of Batman's many enemies.

He swore he could still hear his howling, maniacal laughter echo through the caves as escaped.

Since then it's been three months of silence…to silent for someone like _him_. But Batman knew it wasn't _him_. It was much too quiet of a takeover for _him_. Could it have been Prometheus?

He didn't have the answer to that at the moment. Instead, Batman only focused on saving the workers held hostage and returning inmates to their rooms. He just hoped it won't be a disastrous repeat of last time.

 _(Alfred) " Master Wayne, the location of Arkham's access point is exactly two meters ahead of you. I still think that going straight into the fray of a hostile takeover such as this is suicide."_

 **"It's not the first time, Alfred. I did it once, I can do it again."**

 _(Alfred) "Technically you've only done this two times, but if you say so, sir. Still, I wonder what could have caused ANOTHER outbreak within Arkham Asylum? You'd think two complete lockdowns of the facility in the past would inspire more tightened security so as to not make a repeat of the last times."_

 **"Whoever's behind this must have had it planned out weeks or months in advance. This is definitely not the _his_ work. He would have left the door wide open to see the GCPD meet their end. He was always a pretentious show off like that."**

 _(Alfred) "Then could it be that new masked fellow; Prometheus? He hasn't been seen since last month."_

 **"Only one way to find out."**

Batman's journey through the cavern took him towards the end of his trail in the form of a brick wall. He reached into his utility belt, and pulled out a small spray gun. He drew out a small bat insignia on the brick wall, and backed away a few steps. With a simple press of the button on the gadget, a large explosion had blown out a gaping hole into the brick wall with chunks of it flying about.

Through the billow of smoke, Batman walked right into the abandoned elevator shaft. It was riddled with cobwebs and pitch black due to no source of light coming through its moldy, metal crevice. He looked up to see no elevator in sight. He grabbed his grapnel gun, and zip-lined himself upward.

He traveled until he had reached his destination; the third floor. He had landed on the edges of the elevator doors, and easily ripped it open. What he saw was nothing short of horrifying.

Standing in a row in an empty, dusk of a hallway were...people. These people were dressed in both patient's garbs and nurse uniforms alike. However their...faces—they were ripped from their flesh and worn as masks. Some had blood dripping from them. The expressions that they wore all seemed dead and emotionless. But what was even more frightening was how they stood there; almost motionless. They were obviously alive due to their bodies lightly waving back and forth. They didn't seem like an immediate threat given the fact that they didn't even react to Batman appearing from the elevator.

The Dark Knight slowly walked into the hallway, with eyes trained on each and every one of the stationary being that lined the dimly lit hallway. everything was calm and quiet for there to have been a takeover. Upon entering the facility, he expected to find carnage and chaos. Instead, all was too quiet. Batman had approached one of the still people and closely examined it.

He could see where their faces started and the flesh ended. Judging by the delicacy of the skin cut from the face, there were incisions from a small knife. Batman could only assume it was a scalpel do to how smooth the edges of the skin/mask was, as oppose to a regular knife that could leave small ridges of the killer was sloppy. But that still didn't explain to him why they stood so...motionless. Emphasis on _'did'_.

Suddenly, Batman's instincts kicked into high gear the moment he saw the motionless being lift his arm with a steak knife in hand. Batman was able to block the strike, and throw him over his shoulder and onto the ground.

In that instant, Batman could feel a wave of eyes all starring at him. He turned to see a swarm of the masked people all coming for him with knives and rusty cleavers in hand. Batman rolled forward and got back onto his feet and stand before the incoming swarm.

The first one swung at him with great force, but Batman easily blocked it with the blades of his gauntlets. He then delivered a swift kick to the leg and a hue kick to the diaphragm that sent the masked person flying back into the crowd of similar people. They all fell in a pile that allowed Batman to reach into his belt, and toss a talisman-like device, that released a current of electricity upon them.

Batman believed this would subdue them...he was wrong.

Instead, one of the masked people used her cleaver to slam it into the device. Before Batman knew it, they were back up and slowly coming towards him like nothing.

Batman grabbed one of his batarangs and threw it right into the shoulder of one of the masked people. Just as he feared, it did nothing to slow them down, nor did it look like it even registered the sharp batarang was had sunk deep into his flesh. He, and the rest of them, only continued to slowly approach the Dark Knight.

Rather then fight them right away, Batman opted to use the stealth. He reached into his utility belt, and threw down a smoke bomb that filled the entire hallway in purple smoke. It was just enough of a distraction for Batman to take off down another hallway. Unfortunately, it didn't sound like the smoke did much damage, as he could hear naked footsteps from far off coming after him.

Batman continued down the dingy, dimly-lit halls, while contemplating what had just happened. It was as if they were immune to pain, and could even continue to move despite serious injury. Batman found that preposterous, yet there they were; up and running after them, despite being struck with 2,000 volts of electricity.

He put those thoughts to the side, once he found the room he was meaning to find. He wasted no time in opening the door, and closing it behind him. He stayed low as he heard the footsteps quickly approaching the door. There was a moment of tension swimming through Batman's nerves as the footsteps grew in numbers. Just as they grew louder, they slowly began to dissipate, as they traveled down the halls and away from him. A small sigh of relief had filled the Dark Knight.

Batman stood back up in the room that he found himself in; he once again turned on his night vision lens in his cowl, and saw, with his own eyes, the white-tiled room of the small hospital wing that was recently ransacked. Needles laid across the floor, while the curtains to some of the toppled over patient beds were ripped apart. A possible signs of struggle from people taken against their will was Batman's guess. He looked in the sink, and was hit with the most rancid stench of blood like a scented plague slowly corroding Batman's was filled with dried blood that chipped off of the metal surface when Batman examined it. If not for his high tolerance, he'd have already lost his stomach to the mix of the sewers and this new hell to his nostrils.

He figured that whoever went through the room, had done it a few days or even a week ago. He looked through the cabinets above to see a lot of the chemicals had been either moved around or were missing entirely.

The broken glass from the outside windows was big enough for humans to have gone through. The shattered pieces of glass were inside; indicating someone broke in. He examined closer to see a piece of black cloth that was caught on the sharp glass.

Batman ripped it off and pulled out a scanner from his utility belt, that folded to the size of a wide screened gadget. He placed the cloth onto the screen as it lit up and scanned the ripped parchment.

As the scanner was analyzing, Batman went to the surgery supplies drawer, to find that most of the equipment had been taken. Scalpels, amino hooks, tweezers—everything one would need for a surgery...or a twisted massacre.

He had to look in the medicine cabinet next to make sure his suspicions weren't correct...sadly they were. He saw every pain killer, morphine, and anesthesia bottle missing.

The moment the scanner had finished doing its job, Batman made a call on his earphone to base.

 **"Alfred, I've reached one of the hospital wings."**

 _(Alfred) "I've noticed. The scan that you've sent to me belongs to 'Baring Arms' artillery hardware."_

 **"The company where most of GCPD gets their utilities. A lone GCPD officer must've felt brave."**

 _(Alfred) "A tragic loss, indeed..."_

 **That's not all. Many of the medical surgery equipment and anesthesia was stolen as well."**

 _(Alfred) "Goodness. What would anyone in Arkham want with...actually that doesn't sound too far-fetched."_

 **"I need to run a scan of this entire room. Run a history search and seclude it to all known people within Arkham—workers and patients included."**

Batman flipped on his lens for Alfred to do his scanning through them. His eyes were exposed to shades of blue with molecular scanning collecting the forensic DNA from the crime scene in gathering the data needed to find a match. So far the biggest hit on the radar was the sink of blood that all lead to not only the GCPD officer, but other random individuals whom had no connection to Arkham at all. Yet why would their blood still be there was a mystery to Batman.

Finally his forensic scanners picked up not fingerprints persay, but instead a strange smudge that left a heated print on one of the other items. He took a knee towards it to examine it closer. It was indeed a smudged fingerprint, but it was gloved by latex.

 **"Alfred, I just found something here. It's not much alone, but apparently it's a glove's fingerprint."**

 _(Alfred) "Glove? That might prove to be difficult to sus out who's responsible, sir."_

 **"Not difficult at all. According to scanners, these brand of latex gloves haven't been used since the Cold War. They were specifically worn by surgeons from those days. See if you can match a history search on anyone here in Arkham who would fit this description."**

 _(Alfred) "There's only one fellow that appears in the data search; a surgeon by the name of Lazlo Valentin."_

Batman eyes narrowed in bitterness at the sound of that name.

 **"Professor Pyg."**

 _(Alfred) "You've heard of him, sir?"_

 **"He was there, Alfred...He was the act before…Dick and his parents."**

 _(Alfred) "Oh...I see…"_

 **"After Dick's parents died, I did a thorough investigation on all possible suspects who arrived at the circus that night. Before I actually discovered the people responsible, I kept a personal eye on one of the circus workers there; Lazlo Valentin."**

 _(Alfred) "It says here he was originally a top surgeon for an under-the-radar operations agency, founded in the Cold War by the United Nations. After his services, he began to develop an obsession with the field of medical surgery, and was later removed of his degree after an illegal lobotomization on…goodness…on his own wife…He went missing since."_

 **"And so he found cover while in the circus. His show consisted of showing off his freak show of strange humans with stitched arms on their backs, or other abnormalities. They all wore strange doll masks. I guess they were more literal 'Dolls' then I was let on to believe."**

 _(Alfred) "Irony at its finest, I suppose."_

 **"It didn't last long apparently. After the accident with Dick's parents, he desperately wanted their corpses to experiment with—rambling on about ' _wanting to make them perfect._ ' Dick beat him to a bloody pulp."**

 _(Alfred) "Knowing Master Grayson, I can only imagine the brutality."_

 **"He** **was immediately put into Arkham Asylum after sneaking into one of the performer's trailers and attempting another ' _surgery_ '. He's been here in Arkham ever since."**

 _(Alfred) "So it appears he's gotten his chance to perform his twisted experiments within Arkham."_

 **"But this is the strange part; Reports showed that Victor Valentin was murdered within the Asylum during last year's hostile takeover. His body was found in his personal Maximum Security cell with a hook lodged into his skull through his mouth, and left hanging with his entrails splattered on the ground…and a big grin from ear-to-ear."**

 _(Alfred) "Oh, good lord…_"

Batman could hear Alfred doing his best to keep down his gag reflex.

 **"Breathe, Alfred."**

 _(Alfred) "Ugh…I-I'm quite alright...I would assume the intention was for him to die like a true "pig." If the original Professor Pyg did indeed die, then why is all this occurring? Could Prometheus be a possible suspect?"_

 **"I don't know, but this all ends tonight. I'm going further into the Asylum to find him. I'll update you if I find anything else."**

 _(Alfred) "Yes, sir…Also I would highly suggest not going out the door. Thermal scanners are picking up a hefty number of hostiles walking across the halls. What's even more peculiar is their complete lack of brain activity. It's almost as if they were…well…_"

 **"…Mindless dolls."**

Batman looked towards the closest ventilation shaft and ripped right through its grates. He immediately slipped into the vents and proceeded to scour as quietly as possible through the long, cubical, cramp tunnels. He remembered having to suffer the intense heat that came with staying in the vents for too long. They were murder when he had accidentally fallen asleep in one of them all day after staying awake for two whole nights. Luckily he had trained his body to last 6 days and nights without rest at minimum.

Batman took peeks through the slits of the vents, and saw just what kind of madness befell the Asylum _this_ time. Every room or hallway he passed was the same result—the patients were all mindless drones who walked across the hallways aimlessly. They had no faces to call their own anymore. They all wore doll mask like they were nothing but numbers. Individuality had been removed from them; leaving husk of their former selves to carry out the commands of a supposed dead man. Batman could see no defining traits to any of them. They all walked the same, stood the same, hell, they even sat the same. They really _were_ nothing butdolls.

Batman could no longer stand the sight of these innocent people violently stripped of their conscience, and continued rummaging through the vents towards the path he memorized during the last Arkham takeover.

He finally stopped when he could no longer see any of the dolls in the room below. Batman kicked the grate out and landed in the dark remains of what was once a bright kitchen. Unfortunately just like the hospital room, it too was a mess of turned over chairs, broken cabinets, shattered glass spread across the sticky ground, and splattered with blood. There was a heavy scent of meat that mixed with iron.

He quickly checked the pantries and knife boxes; as suspected, all of the butcher's knives and hacking utensils were taken. Considering he was almost hit with a steak knife by one of the dolls, there was no question where they went. He hoped some of them were taken by the employees to defend themselves...not that it would've mattered since the dolls are immune to pain.

He turned around to get a better look in the dark kitchen, before he had caught glance towards a splash of blood that he could barely make out in the dark. He used his night vision lens in his cowl looked at the wall to see a message written in blood— _pig's_ blood;

 ** _P Y G- W I L L- B E- Y O U R- G O D._**

Suddenly, Batman heard the rummaging in the dark. The sounds of the door being bashed in with something hard grew louder and louder.

 **"Alfred, it's worse in here then I thought."**

 _(Alfred) "Good lord...well, you'll be pleased to know that a good majority of Arkham staff were able to evacuate the Asylum safely. As for the Arkham patients,about half of them were quickly transferred to Blackgate the moment the take over occurred. The rest...I'm afraid you know what happened to them."_

 **"Whoever this madman is, he's copied Pyg's style to the letter. His victims are practically brain dead; acting only on pure instinct."**

 _(Alfred) "They would have to have known the original Pyg in his personal life. Though I don't quite know who'd be bloody mad enough to want to make friends with THAT maniac."_

 **"In Gotham, never say ne** —"

Batman was interrupted by the sound of a loud thud from outside the locked double doors of the kitchen. From the blurred window, Batman could see the misty shadow of someone standing there, hitting the door with the palm of their hand. He could also hear a beeping coming from outside as well.

Batman quickly grabbed his grapnel gun and shot himself back into vents—just in time to see the doors be swung open, and in came about five dolls who walked right in. Upon further inspection, Batman noticed something glowing from their foreheads; almost like a small blinker. He turned on his scanning lens and found that they were more then just blinkers.

 **"Heat-seeking, motion detectors."**

 _(Alfred) "Most peculiar. It appears this_ _impostor Pyg made quite the precautionary measures for you."_

Without a single warning, one of the pearly-masked dolls immediately looked up at the open vent where Batman was, and silently pointed towards it. The rest of them joined in a crowed and followed in pointing at him in silence an with an uneasy stillness to them.

 **"Shit...!"**

Batman quickly rummaged through the vents, but could already hear the sounds of hands grasping at the vent's walls from behind him. The most frightening part came from the fact that he heard not a single grunt or groan from any of them. They almost seemed to be devoid of any human emotion or sense of strain.

As he turned the corner of the dark vents, Batman was startled when he came face-to-face with a pearl-like dolls mask starring at him in silence. Its arms made a grab for him, but Batman quickly caught it to deliver a punch to its masked face. He took notice of the other dolls quickly approaching from behind him as well. Batman was stuck in a very tight spot. He wouldn't be able to last in such a tight space.

Batman reached into his utility belt and pulled out his explosive gel to spray around the cubic walls of the rest of the vent in front of him. The hard thumping of a hundred hands slamming against metal forced Batman to work fast. He grasped his cape and covered his entire body as he pulled the trigger. The explosive gel had blown the vent out of the ceiling and caused everyone who was inside to immediately fall out of it; onto the ground below.

Batman fell two stories towards the ground, but luckily landed perfectly on his feet thanks to his cape expanding like the wings of a bat, while the rest of the dolls came tumbling down like the lifeless puppets they were.

Batman looked around, and found himself standing within the infamous hallway that held the many glass cages of past Arkham patients. Many a years have gone by that he's had to tread through these very halls to see the madness of Gotham all locked up, and away from civilization. Of course, he also recalled the recent takeover of Arkham Asylum and the horror that befell those very halls—small flames coming from within the padded rooms, bodies lying across the floor; both patient and employee alike, and the sounds of innocent people screaming and laughing in a frenzy. Hell couldn't even begin to describe such a nightmare.

Compared to then, this takeover was tamed and was as eerie as could be. Batman was use to eerie, but this was a whole different breed. None of the padded rooms were damaged at all, and there was not even a flicker of a hostile takeover to be seen in the dark corridors. The unusual quiet also put an uncomfortable sensation in Batman's nerves. At least before, with the screaming and crazy ranting of Arkham patients, it was familiar territory. This was...foreign. _Actual_ quiet in Arkham Asylum.

Then, just as the quiet was settling in, a record had played over the intercoms; it was the singing of an opera symphony.

Batman was confused for a moment, before he could hear the sounds of bones being cracked. He looked behind him, only to be shocked to find the dolls who fell from the ceiling, were not standing back up again; despite some of their legs being out of place, their arms twisted into a painful place, and even some of their necks twisted in an abnormal manner. They began to drag themselves towards the Dark Knight, as if they were responding to the music playing over the intercoms.

Batman was astonished at how far these…beings would go to fulfill some strange desire for battle. In fact, _desire_ would require an actual emotions. This was an, almost wired, objective within them to kill the Batman.

They all came after him but lacked any skill in fighting—lucky for Batman.

The first made an attempt to grab him, but Batman blocked its arm and slammed a fist into its chest to send it on its back. Another swung its broken arm at him, allowing Batman to dodge its strike and deliver a mix of body shots to its torso, finishing with a right hook across the jaw to send it spinning onto the ground. The third was grabbed by its broken neck and judo-flipped over Batman's head, and into the wall.

The last three to come after Batman were stopped by three small balls he threw that exploded into thick, metal rope to keep them all tied down.

Once he had finished with them, he had noticed all the commotion had brought even more attention to him. Standing in the shadows of the Asylum halls was an overwhelming crowd of the same doll-like people. They all stood in a perfect line to form a wall against the Dark Knight. They too stood in silence with doll mask on their face. It was practically an army of them now. What was odder was the fact that some of them were dressed in neither patients clothes or employee ones. Some were dressed in old civilian clothes or fancy dresses. These were people that were picked out of random locations, just to be rewired as mindless dolls. Such a twisted and horrifying fate, only angered the Dark Knight further.

Batman used his grapnel gun and sprung himself out of the mindless army's clutches to reach the second floor of the Asylum's patients hall. He took to his heels down the second story, all while keeping close to the shadows and staying as silent as possible, which was not a problem for the Dark Knight in itself, but he had to take extra care of his footsteps and presence while going through the trackers.

He realized that he needed a little more outside help in order to find his target. As such, the Batman took refuge in one of the open, dark offices to speak to Alfred.

 **"Alfred, I need to find Professor Pyg and fast. See if you can hack into the back door I installed into Arkham's database."**

 _(Alfred) "I would love to, sir, but there appears to be an encrypted code that prevents me from having any access into Arkham's security mainframe to find this new Pyg. It could take a while."_

 **"Work fast, Alfred. We can't let this go on any further."**

 _(Alfred) "I hear you sir, but I can't seem to crack it even with the super computer's decryptor here in the Batcave. This is the work of a nasty virus that's become too stubborn to delete."_

 _(?) "Well, as luck would I have it, I happen to know just the remedy."_

A new voice had entered Batman's com—a familiar female voice whom he had not expected to answer, but was fortunate nonetheless to have on his team right now.

 **"Nice of you to join us, Oracle."**

 _(Alfred) "Ms. Gordon. My word, it's been quite some time."_

 _(Oracle) "Oh, don't try to soften me up, Alfred, I'm not some kid. And Bruce, mind explaining why you didn't tell me you were heading straight into Arkham? I figured you'd know I would help you since it's all over the news. I had just finished a new state-of-the-art tracking system ready to find the person responsible. So much for my vacation time."_

 **"You don't _need_ to be involved in this, Oracle. I can handle it."**

 _(Oracle) "Don't do that. God, why are you trying to push people away, Bruce? We use to be able to work just fine until—"_

 **"—We'll talk about it later. Right now, all that matters is finding Professor Pyg."**

 _(Oracle) "Wait, you mean Victor Valentin? He's the one responsible? But he was reported dead last year…You don't think he faked his death, do you?"_

 **"DNA test, blood samples, and even fingerprints confirm that he was murdered in his own cell of last year. There's no mistaking it that Victor Valentin is dead. Now there's someone trying to carry on his legacy; a possible fanatic of the late Valentin's work."**

 _(Oracle) "What kind of demented person would actually carry on—Oh wait, this IS Gotham we're talking about."_

 **"Give it time. It can be better."**

 _(Oracle) "Yeah, yeah… okay, I've broken the encryption. I now have complete access to all of Arkham Asylum's internal mainframe. This new Professor Pyg's current location is in your tracker. Good luck."_

 **"Thanks, Oracle."**

 _(Oracle) "You bet...Also don't think twice to ask if you need my help. Just because I'm working with Dick in Bludhaven, doesn't mean I don't worry about you, Alfred, or even dad every now and then. What I'm saying is...don't let a death in the family make you feel like you can't talk to us. No matter what happened in the past...you could give us a call, Bruce...You know that, right?"_

He paused for a moment before giving a response.

 **"I know."**

Batman switched off his communicator and turned on his thermal tracking lenses in his cowl. Using the scanner, he had surveillance to the entire Asylum right before his very eyes. Every single mindless doll was now in his sights through a computerized display on his lenses. He used the scans of the fingerprints from the hospital wing to search for any that matched within the Asylum. It didn't take long before there was a lock-on right towards this new Pyg's location—deep in the freezer room was where he was pinged.

 **"Got you."**

Batman ran out of the office, and gunned for it down the long, dark halls where there once echoed the shrilled howls of mentally unstable patients. Stealth was no longer a necessity considering that the dolls had already caught on to his movements from above them, and immediately went after him. As he was running, Batman noticed how fast they had made up onto the second floor. They were practically catching up with the Dark Knight, despite their capabilities in running seemed less then a normal human being. Could it have also been due to their immunity to pain also makes them immune to feeling the strain of their legs?

Once Batman reached the end of the scaffold, he leaped over the edge, and landed with ease to continue running. If his memory served him well, he remembered just below him was the stairway towards the storage room, and just below that was the stairway towards the lower level. Batman had to time it right.

He used his grapnel gun to sling himself up just enough to sling himself up a few feet off the ground. He then grabbed a miniature bomb from his belt and threw it right towards the ground. The bomb exploded and created a small hole for Batman sink right into through the billow of smoke. As he predicted, just above him was the crowd of dolls who followed him, and were falling along with him. They all found themselves hurdling down into the giant, dark storage unit of the Asylum that traveled quite a ways before reaching the ground.

Batman grabbed another bomb and threw it to the ground below, while fighting off one of the dolls whom had grabbed him. He kicked it away, just in time to hear the bomb below explode and create another opening to fall through. Batman grabbed his grapnel gun and shot it towards one of the larger crates beside the billow of smoke. As he fell through the hole, He used all his weight to pull down the large crate with him. It fell right on top of the hole Batman fell through with a loud slam, that blocked it from anyone else getting through. Batman could hear the muffled sound of bodies toppling over themselves onto the crate from above.

Batman released the grapnel's claw from the crate, and fell onto a flight of stairs that was part of a dark corridor that lead downwards. It was barely lit and felt more like a dungeon then an Asylum. Batman continued his deep, dark decent into the freezer room below. He could tell he was approaching by the slow drop in temperature. As he continued down, he was stopped momentarily by a crate sitting right in front of him on the stair case. What caught Batman's attention was the name " _PROF. PYG_ " imprinted on it. He looked inside, and just as he feared, it was completely barren of a single one of his usual items; including his signature pig mask.

Batman quickened his pace down the stairs until it had gotten so cold that he began to see his own breath. Luckily his suit and cowl were resistant to most below freezing temperatures.

once long stairway had finally reached an end, Batman walked right into, not a freezer _room_ , per say, but rather a freezer domain. The room was about the same size as a ballroom with a dimly-lite lanterns over head that covered the spacious freezer room into a warm, shadowy atmosphere. It was covered in solid ice and snowy fluff on the floor. What bothered Batman the most was the overwhelming stench of blood was almost corroding. It came from multiple shelves of frozen, bloody meat and supplies stacked on top of one another towards the roof. However it wasn't just animal meat that was in this freezer, as he looked up to see the _other_ pieces of meat hanging by their shoulders on hooks—at least 10 of them. Their dangling legs slowly swung like chandeliers to the smallest of breeze. Their skin was pale to the point of being a shade of blue, and their fingers hacked off to stumps so that they wouldn't try to escape their fate. The sight of those bodies made it clear just what was really in those bloody boxes of frozen meat.

"Beautiful...are they not...?"

Batman could hear the echoing, muffled squeal of a pig screeching from behind where he entered. That disgusting sound almost made Batman's ears ring. He turned around to come face-to-face with a ghost from the past, now standing a few feet away from him.

His white apron took on a hue of red with fresh splats of bloody hand prints all over his torso. He wore nothing underneath and was assumed to be buck naked. Bloody footprints followed behind every step he took. His face was masked not with a pig's plastic mask, but instead the literal head of a decapitated baby pig's head placed onto his own. Its eyes were carved out of their sockets to allow Valentin to see.

 **"Lazlo Valentin. This nightmare ends tonight."**

A shivering cackle of malice came from within the pig's head as he slowly strolled into the barren cold of the freezer. "Lazlo…how long…has it been since I…heard that name…T-To hear him…to…to—AUGHHH!-!"

He suddenly began to shriek in absolute pain as he clutched at his pig-headed mask. His finger nails had sunk deep into the pig's thick skin to the point that the head bled. Batman knew he was an unstable wreck that could end up hurting himself if he was left like this.

Finally he began to wheeze harshly as he calmed himself down enough to at least speak.

"H-Heh...hehehehehe...Lazlo...Lazlo Valentin...How long...it has been since...I-I heard such a name..." He slowly dragged his bare feet, blue with frost bite, across the cold ice. "His name...it fills me with...gleeful fulfillment once I've became...his reincarnation...!"

 **"You're no reincarnation. You're a young man whose mind was warped because of him. This is not the right path you want to walk down. You'll only end up in a padded room for the rest of your life by following that madman's work.** **"**

"Madman...Madman...MADMAN?-!" Pyg yelled in deep breaths. "H-HOW DARE YOU!-! Lazlo...He. Is. My. God! H-He has...He has made me what I am! Without him...I...! I would have nothing, I...! How...! HOW DARE YOU!-!"

 **"It doesn't have to be this way.** **You don't need to follow Lazlo. You can live your own life. With help, we can rehabilitate you in a safe** **environment** **—"**

"Nonononono...he...he told me...he told me you would try...you would try to corrupt me...s-so did...my grandmother...! They both told me you would lie...Don't lie...DON'T LIE!-!"

Pyg suddenly ran at the Dark Knight while howling maniacally at him. From the pouch of his surgical apron, he pulled out two pairs of butcher knives dulled with blood.

His movements seemed sporadic with no inclination of skill. All it took was dodging his first attack of a downward cut, grabbing that arm so as to not attack, and deliver a hard jab to his pig-masked face. Even his pain-filled scream was that of a pig's squealing. Batman finished him with a kick to his chest that sent him sliding across the rough, icy ground.

"EUAGH! DARLINGS! K-KILL HIM! KILL HIM!-!"

Suddenly from above, those same hanging people above ripped themselves from their hooks, and dropped to the ground with little injury. They're were at least 10 of the doll-like men who wore those emotionless doll mask and ripped up Arkham patients garbs. Despite having huge gashes in their shoulders, they did not react to them at all. They really _were_ immune to pain, as Batman feared.

They all came running at Batman in a frenzy. However their movements only indicated their lack of prowess. Batman shifted his form into a style of martial arts known as Kyusho Jitsu; a combat system entirely focused on pressure points. Since punching and kicking wasn't enough. He needed to subdue them in a more precise manner.

He used his grapple gun to spike himself out of the crowd of Doll-faced men and land a distance away from them. All of them turned simultaneously towards the Bat in silence, before running at Batman again.

Batman however stood calmly as he stared down the wave of enemies. He synchronized his breathing with his heartbeat and cleared his mind of internal thought. His body relaxed to a state of stillness that mimicked a flowing ocean in the horizon. It felt as though time had suddenly slowed down for Batman to see each and every doll approach him in a slow manner.

Batman reached for the doll's arm and jabbed the knuckles of his index and middle fingers into its shoulder. The next one ran at him, but was caught by Batman's fist slamming into the connecting part of his leg and waist. Batman turned on the heel and punched his index and middle finger into the third doll's temple. The fourth was hit with only slamming his fist into his lower arm and a punch into its doll-like face. The fifth was brought down with Batman getting low and hitting it in the kneecap with a hard elbow. The sixth being hit in his throat with a chop. Seventh and eighth; chock slammed into the ground with possible head fractures from both of them. The ninth was brutally punched in the gut, his head slammed into Batman's knee, and thrown to the ground. And finally, the last was punched in the stomach, suffered a rising headbutt to the chin, and grabbed, by the legs, off his feet before Batman broke one of them with a sharp twist.

Once all had fallen to the ground, Batman had stood among the foundations of immobilized or unconscious dolls that all laid before him. All that was left was one Professor Pyg, who, by the looks of him, was quivering like a child just for standing in the same room as The Dark Knight. That or he was freezing in the cold room. He muttered indescribable words to himself underneath the lifeless pig's head, but Batman could practically smell the fear radiating from his bones.

 **"It's over, impostor. You're through."**

"N-No! Nonononono this is not right...!" He began to back up nervously, before falling on his butt and slowly crawling away from him. "T-Th-Th-This...! This wasn't what...wasn't supp-p-p-pose to happen...I was...! I was suppose...t-t-t-to take on... _his_ legacy...!"

 **"I said it's _over_."**

"NO IT IS NOT!-!" He yelled viciously.

He suddenly began to shriek maniacally as he once again dug his fingers into the pig mask head. Batman stopped as he looked in disgust at this psychotic former shell of a man tear off the skin of the pig head like wallpaper; his apron drenched in rancid blood as he sunk deep into it's flesh. He just continued shrieking and tearing, as blood poured all over his body. His fingernails had been ripped off and stuck within the fatty meat of the pig's fleshy skull, yet he continued ripping and tearing the flesh off, until all that was left was his own face as he continued to yell harshly.

There were only thin chunks oozing off of his blood stained face. His hair was scraggly and wet across his eyes with a hue of red, while his face suffered a nasty, deep gash across from his left forehead to his right cheek. Some of his rotten teeth had been knocked out, while some still tried to hold on in those bloody gums of his. His eyes were like that of a crazed primate who was ready to savagely pounce.

His howling was like a warthog's wild bawling in full charge for their target.

Y-YOU!-! You dare look down on me!-!" He yelled to the top of his lungs. "ADMIT IT!-! You demand it too!-! inside you...! YOU WANT PERFECTION!-!" He got back up to his feet and pulled out another butcher's knife. "You want it...! Everyone you fight...Y-You want to be perfect!-! J-Just like him..! J-Just like P-P-PYG...! Just...! Like... _FATHEEEEEER!_ "

Suddenly, the mad man ran at Batman while swinging his butcher knife around as if he were insanely hacking air. He had become completely unstable and is now moving with uncontrolled rage.

Just what Batman expected.

The Dark Knight waited for his most prominent swing to come—the swing with the most momentum behind it. The moment Pyg was within a few steps in front of him, his blade-held arm cocked back, while his screaming was within ear-splitting distance, Batman took to his heel and charged in at him. He tackled him in the gut, and hoisted him in to the air with his sheer force, before he was elevated enough for Batman to grab the shrieking bastard across his stomach, and use his own weight coupled with Batman's strength to body slam him right into the ground.

The impact was intense enough to make cracks into the ground, and hard enough to completely knock the wind out of this new Professor Pyg.

As Batman stood up, looking over the unconscious and defeated Pyg, who looked more dead then unconscious, he could assume that body slam alone broke multiple ribs, fractured his collarbone, and would caused breathing problems in the future. At the very least, he won't be continuing his father's work for a long time.

Now all that was left was to call Jim to handle the rest;

 **"Jim, I've apprehended the person responsible for this hostile takeover. It was Professor Pyg's handiwork."**

 _(Gordon)_ _"The crazy pig guy? thought he was dead."_

 **"He was...his _son_ was his handiwork. Janosz Valentin—The son of Pyg."**

 _(Gordon) "Jesus...So I assume some of the victims roaming around in there are..."_

 **"He lobotomized as many as fifty people in Arkham Asylum** **—patient, and worker alike. Including many others. One of which was a GCPD officer."**

Batman did his best to keep himself emotionless, but even through that facade, his disappointment in himself for not being able to save those poor people who would probably never be brought back to their proper state of minds was all to easy to hear for Jim.

 **"I'm sorry, Jim. I was too late to save them."**

 _(Gordon) "Dammit...it's not your fault. There was no way you could've_— _"_

 **"Have your men use non-lethal rounds on the victims. At the very least, we can apprehend them rather then gun them down like animals."**

 _(Gordon) "I hear ya. Thanks, Batman. Knew I could count on you."_

Batman cut off communications from Jim. He didn't need to hear anymore praise from the commissioner if ever he offered it. Batman had hoped he could prevent another unfortunate event to befall so many innocent people. They had lives, ambitions, emotions...all of it forcefully removed by a madman who was deranged enough to take away the freewill of about fifty human beings. It took every ounce of restraint in Batman's core to not break his fist into this unconscious psychopath's teeth...but what would that get him? Only a minimal moment of satisfactory revenge that would burn out within a few minutes.

Bruce should know. He's done it before...when _he_ was killed by that damned clown.

He couldn't even say his name, let alone want to remember what had happened that day. But every time he looked down at the unconscious son of Pyg, he couldn't help but see _his_ face; the same closed eyes and lifeless expression.

A son forced to follow his father's footsteps into the arms of his own death.

That was the worst sin of of Gotham City...and Batman was not spared from it.


	4. March: The Everyday Little Things

**_MARCH_**

* * *

The everyday little things should be what we cherish the most.

Maybe it was due to Gotham being a crime-filled cesspool, that the people hold on to the smallest things that give them relief—whether that be something as small as a trinket, or as addictive as methamphetamines. It is almost unbelievable that we humans could find satisfaction in even the smallest, insignificant things. If pushed to the edge, we'd even _kill_ for those insignificant things.

But for one citizen, her _small things_ tended to sparkle, or be worth millions. And she was ready to drop hundreds of brainless goons to get it.

Which brought her towards the rooftop that stood before one of the most famous, and well-talked about nightclubs in Gotham on this warm star-filled late night. She made sure to pick the night when the most filthiest of rich idiots and their trophy wives gathered together in one place.

You'd have to be one of the biggest names both in-public, and in the criminal world to even step on the same sidewalk as the one and only Iceberg Lounge. It stood as high as a castle while keeping the theme of its name in being a giant Iceberg edifice so large, the Titanic would get the shivers just seeing it.

Crouching on the edge of one of the buildings across from the nightclub, as if she herself were an agile feline, was a single woman who had watched the gathering of people being lead into the nightclub with lights flickering inside, and a large crowd of people all waiting to have their chance in.

She wore a black, full-body, thin leather suit with a darker brown, flexible corset around her waist. Tied to her hip was a matching leather whip tied to the side of her hip, along with a utility belt filed with other items inside. Her gloves were adorned with sharpened, gold claws that resembled those of a cat's, and a mechanism around her wrist with a small hook attached. The cat theme continued to her head as she adorned a black leather helmet with pointed cat ears on her head, a black collar around her neck, and orange goggles on her eyes.

While on the outside it was a bouncing nightclub with a bunch of big cats drinking the night away, the " _catwoman_ " could only see wads of valuables walking right into a nest that was just asking to be a score. It'd be a shame if she missed out on such an opportunity. It's not like they would be using it for anything special.

But those desires were swiftly stolen by the sound of a cape landing behind her, along with an uncomfortable presence slowly over-shadowing her.

"Oh, poo..." Catwoman sighed. "...and here I was hoping I could have a lil pow-wow without you." She stood back up and turned to face the Caped Crusader. A smooth smirk appeared on her lips. "So what brings you here? I never took you for the party type."

 **"You and I both know why _I'm_ here."**

Batman walked past Catwoman, and took a foot forward to the edge; looking down at the loud commotion of people all getting into the nightclub.

 **"Rumor has it; Cobblepot's been busy. It's unusual of him to gather _this_ many criminal bosses _and_ mafia lords to the Iceberg Lounge. He even invited Bruce Wayne here. He's up to something."**

"Well, while you solve your little mystery, I'll be busy having my own fun." Catwoman smirked as she slowly approached Batman. A tantalizing hand slowly glided across his shoulder. "I hope you don't mind. Maybe I can _convince_ you to see things my way for once, hmm?" She moved in closer behind Batman; breath touching his cheek. "Just for tonight."

As tempting as she was in her mastery of persuasion, Batman turned to push her back and give her the usual consequences if he were to catch her in the act.

 **"Don't think because I'll be busy with Cobblepot, you'll get off Scott-free. If even a single penny is stolen, our next meeting will be with you behind prison bars."**

"Oooh, kinky~" Catwoman smirked. "I'll make sure you don't catch me."

With that, Catwoman slithered away from Batman and proceeded to extend her arm forward towards the Iceberg lounge afar. A gas powered grappling hook had shot out of wrist and soared over the street, before it stabbed into the icy structure right below one of its many windows.

"Oh, and one more thing; you and I both know he'll be expecting you to arrive." She said as she slowly bent over in front of him to put the wire into the edge of the building. "So I suggest you _come_ as hard as you can~"

 **"Was that suppose to be cute?"**

Catwoman sighed in annoyance, as she stood back up. She wished that just once, he'd actually show _some_ kind of reaction. She always hated it when her toys didn't work the way she wanted. "As stoic as ever..."

Despite that, she gave one last smirk and a wink towards the Bat. "See you inside~"

With that, she stepped onto the wire, and quickly ran across it with the agility of a cat, and the perfect balance that rivaled even Batman's own acrobatic skills. Once she had reached the window, she cut the wire behind her, and slithered right in.

Batman was curious as to how she was able to get into a locked window. Most likely she walked right into the front door in her civilian clothes and posed as a guest to see the ins and outs of the entire Iceberg Lounge. Something Bruce Wayne would never have been able to pull off. It really _did_ pay to not be famous.

 **"Alfred, I've reached Iceberg Lounge. Cobblepot's expecting me."**

 _(Alfred) "If that ghastly man is up to no good, no doubt he'll have something planned for you, Master Wayne. Thermal images show quite a number of gun-totting hostiles in the building_ —all of them bearing simple 9mm handguns, of course _."_

 **"Only 9mm? That's odd. Cobblepot recently did an under-the-radar shipment of heavy military-grade weapons from South America."**

 _(Alfred) "Most peculiar indeed, sir. As for Cobblepot, he is currently sitting right at the top of his atrocious tower of ice_— _alone in his private office. Do be careful in there. I don't particularly enjoy restitching your cape from bullet wounds."_

 **"Don't worry Alfred. I'm not alone. I've got a special feline friend who'll be keeping me company inside."**

 _(Alfred) "Ah, yes. Ms. Selena Kyle. The infamous cat burglar now moving on to bigger litter boxes it seems. You won't be letting her escape your brand of justice due to her once again, how should I put it; catching you with your bat pants down?"_

 **"Not funny, Alfred. Have the Batwing ready for departure. I'm heading in now."**

 _(Alfred)_ _"The Iceberg Lounge, or Ms. Kyle?"_

 **"Alfred..."**

 _(Alfred) "Just lightening up the mood. I'll have everything prepared. You'll have no later then 30 minutes. Good luck, sir."_

Batman hung up and looked out towards the Iceberg lounge. Already the sounds of intense bass music shook the streets below. Batman could more then easily use the front door, and end this the old fashion way, but he had gotten old in the years, and that kind of plan of attack was beneath him. After all, this _was_ Cobblepot he was dealing with.

Oswald Cobblepot has been a minor pain in Batman's side these days. Unlike more dangerous foes of the Dark Knight's peanut gallery, Cobblepot was just a gang boss who used bigger guns then others did—with a bad temper to boot. He use to be a bigger target, but after the fall of Falcone and Maroni's gangs, he's been more or less a wash up. Still, he was ruthless, cunning to a point, and always surrounded by bigger and stronger foes to protect him and whatever big plans he had cooking, and _that_ wasn't going to slide.

Batman reached into a long black case that he brought with him onto the roof, and pulled from it a modified Remington 700 with a silencer attached. Batman always did hate guns—let alone holding one in his hands, but he had to admit that a sniper had better range and precision in hitting the target. And if used right, can do some good in tracking.

Batman held the sniper in the correct position and looked through the scope for the perfect location. He pointed the red laser right at the top of the giant edifice of ice that pointed the highest towards the sky. Once he had steadied himself well, he pulled the trigger and took a moment to hold his breath as the sound of the bullet left the barrel. Even if it was the lightest sound, a gunshot so close to his ears still put him at an unease. He fired a second shot towards the top of the lounge, before deciding only two shots were needed. The two tracking beacons were set.

Batman, with a released sigh, put the gun down and walked a far length back from the ledge while finding the perfect window for entry. The closest one he could find was one that had a perfect bird's eye view over all of Gotham City—above where Batman had made his two rounds. If everything went as smoothly as he wanted, this mission will be a matter of patience until Alfred's part went into effect.

The Dark Knight ran forward at top speed across the rooftop, and took a strong step onto the edge of the building, before leaping off of it and over the the street below. He quickly extended him arms as his cape immediately sprung to life to form a gliding mechanic similar to the wings of a bat. Once he had flown close enough to the Iceberg Lounge, he grabbed his grapple gun before he began to descend, and shot out the air-cutting wire towards the edge of the window. The sharp hook had pierced through as Batman proceeded to zip himself up towards said window.

Once there, he held on to the sky-view Window ledge against the bellowing winds that threatened his own safety. He peeked into the windows to see only about three men standing around in a swanky business office that rivaled his own at Wayne Enterprise. The only difference was that this one had an array of military force weaponry adorned on the walls like trophies.

Though a long and narrow desk had masked most of his vision of the office, it wasn't too hard to miss the over-bearing portrait the hung over a door. It was of a man who looked at least in his 50s with balding hair, and a sharply pointed nose that distracted from his even stranger monocle practically infused into his left eye. His physical appearance was that of a short man, dressed in the best black n white suit money could buy...or steal. He held a small white kitten, while sitting in a large chair. If ever there was a cliche Cobblepott loved pursuing, it was the stereotypical mobster fever dream.

Seeing as how the man of the hour was nowhere to be seen in the main office, Batman wanted to be quick and quiet about subduing the three of them. As Alfred said; they were only carrying small guns and no heavy artillery, so it would be simple. Still, there was this ever-looming that Penguin was hiding something for sure.

He reached into his utility belt for a small gadget with a sharp blade attached to an extending prong. He stuck it to the the bottom of the window, and watched as it swiftly cut a circle as small as golf ball into the window for him to flick open. He threw into that hole small balls that rolled across the red carpet and into the open without any of them noticing right away.

By the time one of the goons detected them and was about to call the others, the small orbs exploded into fuming gas that quickly filled up the entire office space within a matter of seconds. The three men began to cough and hack as the gas entered into their lungs. Within moments, each one slowly fell unconscious.

Batman climbed up to the window itself and used the window-cutting gadget again near the window's lever. Once cut through, he slipped his hand through the hole, and opened the window, being sure to wear a protective breathing inhaler so as to not breath in the gas and protective lenses built into his cowl. Once inside, Batman proceeded through the smoke-filled office towards, not the door, but instead a close-by vent that connected to the room on the other side.

What better way to greet Cobblepot then by giving him the Dark Knight's usual ' _hello_.'

* * *

Batman kicked through the grate and launched himself right into the back office. It was lit with a chimney fire to the side, while it smelled of old flounder. On the walls were multiple weapons from guns to swords, and hanging over the desk sitting in solitary with a large chair turned away from Batman, was the same portrait as outside the office, but more looming to fit in with the ark ambiance of the room.

 **"Cobblepot."**

From behind the chair came a loud, gruff, cackling, followed by a cockney accent spoken from an older gentleman's voice. The chair slowly turned, and sitting in it was none other then the same old man who, like the painting, had a pointed nose, monocle in his eye, and a devilish, toothy grin on his face. However, his clothes were instead a white dress shirt with sleeves rolled up, a black tie, and black suspenders. twirling in his hand was one of his signature umbrella.

"Well look who it is." Penguin said, "What? Come t' enjoy the party? It's more lively down there then up 'ere."

 **"What're you up to this time, Penguin?"**

"Me? Why, nothin' of course." Penguin said with feigned honesty. "Can't I jus' invite a couple a' chums over for a lil get together?"

 **"Spare me the innocent scam."**

Batman walked over to the Penguin's desk and grabbed him by the collar and lifted him out of his big chair and over his own desk with his legs dragging across it.

 **"You recently purchased military grade weapons from over the South American border. Where are the guns?"**

"Ugh...! These _are_ the guns!" Cobblepot struggled to say as he waved his arms at all the guns on the wall. "There for decorations, I swear...!"

A very likely story that Batman wasn't about to believe. Even if they _were_ things off of the black market, they were still illegal firearms that Cobblepot probably didn't even pay for and took them from the dealers the hard way with his own men. A crime was still a crime, and Batman had to take him in.

 **"Either way, this is illegal black marketing, Cobblepot. You can either surrender freely, or I drag you to Blackgate myself. Your call."**

"Oh, not this time Bat-brain..." Penguin said with a sharp-toothed grin. "Now if ya don't mind, I got a party to run downstairs...! I'll have me _friend_ escort ya out...permanently. Do hope y' enjoy his company...!"

 **"What _friend_ —"**

Batman's words were stolen from him the moment he heard the sound of a loud blast from below him. He looked down quick enough to see a large hand wrap itself around his ankle. Suddenly his body was pulled down through the hole in the ground, and he was thrown through the many floor, until his back broke his fall by landing in a more spacious room that was assumed to be a ballroom.

Batman groaned harshly as he looked up to find the person who grabbed him had landed from the hole and onto the ground with a heavy thud. He was a giant of a man who was dressed in a tight black body suit with its sleeves ripped off. His eyes were deranged, while his nose was as pointed as Cobblepot's, though that could just have been a fake one. But was the most strangest feature about him were the neon green-glowing veins in his bulging arms that matched his similar glowing eyes.

The giant growled viciously like a wild beast of burden, as he grabbed Batman by the neck and lifted him in the air like nothing. The struggling Dark Knight was now face-to-face with something that would give a certain undead creature of a nursery rhyme a run for his money.

"Hahahahahahahaaa! Hope ya like 'em, Batboy!"

Batman's eyes went to the side, where a staircase sat. Down came walking the man of the hour with his umbrella in hand, and dressed in a black fur coat. in his mouth was a cigar that he blew smoke from, before putting on that arrogant grin of his.

"This is just _one_ of my many henchmen to come. I figured since my men were useless t' me as bumblin' goons, I'd go ahead and juice 'em up a bit!"

 **"Ugh...! What...what have you done...?"**

"Oooh, wouldn't you like t' know." Penguin smirked. "I'll admit; havin' to make the deals I did was a dodgy one, but it was bloody worth it! Soon, I'll've gotten me an army of 'em, just waitin' to do my bidding. Soon, no one's gonna look down on Oswald Cobblepott ever again! AHahahahahaha!"

 **"You're wrong...! They won't listen to you...they'll kill anything in their sights...!"**

"Blah, blah, blah. All that hero speak won't do ya any good." Oswald said arrogantly as he walked on towards the closed doors. "'sides, what do I care 'bout a bunch of rats bein' stomped out? It's for me to rise above the cut of the rest anywho! But don't worry; I'll leave some of 'em standin' to give me self a lil competition. Now if you'll excuse me, I got a party to attend downstairs."

He snapped his fingers, which made the slobbering giant respond by looking towards him.

"Bulk, give our _uninvited_ guest a lil bit of that Cobblepot hospitality, will ya?"

With that, Cobblepot left the room through the front door, while 'Bulk' looked back at Batman with a snarling face like a wild animal.

Batman however acted quick as he reached for his utility belt and pulled out a small bottle of pepper to spray into it's face.

The giant of a man shrieked and threw Batman to the side, while it whirled its arms around. Batman regained his footing and watched the giant react negatively towards the spray in its eyes. The Dark Knight then reached into his belt for a pair of defibrillator-like gauntlets that were electrically charged with higher voltage then normal defibrillators.

Batman ran at the distracted creature and threw an array of electrical fist at the pack of muscle in a suit. Though the punches alone had very little affect, the voltage gave Batman the extra edge to have the creature yelling in pain with every punch. Even so, the giant did not go down. Batman decided to bust out harder attacks.

the giant jabbed his fist towards the Dark Knight at such a slow pace that he was more then able to use it to jump right onto its forearm as the fist put a hole in the ground. From there, Batman jumped on to the giant's back and slammed the defibrillators onto the beast's temples. A a hellish roar of agony had escaped the giant's gaping mouth as a powerful charge of pure electricity had sent a shock wave throughout his body.

Despite all that, the beast still had enough strength to grab Batman from over its head, and with a loud roar, throw him across the room, and right out the double doors Cobblepot went through. He had flown through the hallway, and landed in another room filled with trophies and valuables.

There he laid, trying to get himself up again while groaning in terrible pain. He at least took comfort in the fact that none of his bones had been broken to hinder him from continuing the fight.

While in the room, Batman quickly noticed another presence close to him. There were two things he found surprising; the first was a couple of goons who were all laid out unconscious. The second was a certain sneaky kitty taking wads of cash from a highly secured vault and throwing it into a backpack on his left.

Catwoman crouched towards the Dark Knight to purr lightly and give him that condescending smirk of hers. "Told you he was expecting you."

 **"Ugh...I noticed..."**

Suddenly, Batman was dragged off by his feet and taken off to who knows where outside of the trophy room. Judging by the rumblings and ruckus outside, the big bad Bat seemed to have been in need of some help...Then again, she assumed he would have some sort of trick up his sleeve to help him if things got _too_ bad...or maybe not. She _did_ know him for wanting to ' _work alone_ ' and such. She knew that about him, and sadly so did every other big bad in the city that could exploit it to their advantage.

"Oh well. Not my problem." Catwoman said to herself as she whirled the bag over her head and onto her back. "He's been in worse situations. He'll be just fine."

 _ **"AAAAGUH!-!"**_

"...Yep, juust fine~"

Catwoman took one last look at the valuable trophies she could steal. She _did_ want to clean the place out at least before she left, but to her dismay, she had to stick to the plan. Besides, even if she robbed Penguin dry, she couldn't leap off buildings with so much weight.

Knowing Penguin's love for all things that shine in the light, Catwoman could guess he probably had it on his person.

Catwoman got down on all fours, before leaping up into the very same open vent that she had leaped out of. While crawling through the cramped spaces of the steamy ventilation shaft, she always wondered how a full grown man in a bat suit could easily get in and out of these sauna deathtraps without a sweat. She figured he had to be drenched in sweat when he gets back to the cave. He would slips his body out of kevlar...his hand slowly wiping the sweat off his thick, muscular arms...splashing water across his face as it slowly trickled down his his firm back and licking the water off of his soft, yet rough lips ...water traveling down his stomach, right down to his—

" _Whooo_ ~ Easy Selina..." She breathed while fanning herself. "Don't want to get _too_ hot in here. Business before pleasure after all..."

Catwoman continued her small travel through the dark and cramped vents, until she heard the familiar cackling of a deranged pudgy man she knew all too well, just ahead. She peeked through one of the vent's slits to see the fat bastard himself, dressed in an expensive fur coat and now wearing a top hat to ' _add to his douchery',_ as Selina would think it. He stood there in the hallway, along with two of his henchmen, waiting for the elevator to come up.

"Ahhh, it's a good night boys!" Cobblepot bragged. "Not only am I gonna be the one to be called ' _the Man who Killed the Bat_ ' but I'm also gonna be rulin' Gotham with an iron fist! Hahahahahahahaha!"

"Yeah, so, uh, boss...where'd ya find that guy anyway?" One of the guys asked, "He don't look like no schmuck you'd find on the streets..."

"Gee, maybe that's because he _ain't_ one from these streets, ya blitherin' moron!" Cobblepot yelled, "That big 'ol lad is some of the best Venom could create—straight from the daintiest hell holes of South America. Can ya believe how easy it was to work out a deal to get that stuff over to Gotham, let alone a whole human being? Hahaha! One taste of it, and he went berserk to it."

"B-But, boss; how're you gonna get 'em to drink it? It's not exactly somethin' they'd even want..." The other asked. "And how're they gonna listen to ya?"

"Easy, you bleedin' idiot; those brain dead mob bosses would drink lighter fluid if I told 'em it's imported alcohol." Cobblepot explained, "Plus, before enterin', I had all of 'em wear ' _special_ ' diamond-encrusted bracelets that'll send a shockwave through their big 'ol bodies if they act up. Once they guzzle all that venom down, Gotham'll be under my thumb in no time! Hell, they may even let me run as Mayor! Your table is ready, Mayor Cobblepot! Haha!"

"A-And Batman...?" One of them said with worry.

"Batman?-! Batman's singin' his last song up there!" Cobblepot gloated. "Ain't no one stoppin' me!"

"Now, this isn't _really_ my thing..."

Suddenly, the grate above the vent had flown down to the ground, and from it appeared the illustrious cat burglar , that startled Cobblepot and his two henchmen. She had landed onto her feet with the agile precision of an actual cat.

"...but stealing a _victory_ is still a steal to me~"

"C-Catwoman!-!" Oswald exclaimed.

"Now Ozzy, Here you are, having the biggest party in Gotham, and you don't even invite _me_? I'm disappointed." Catwoman said as she stood up. "But all that can be forgiven, if you just give back what you took from me, let me walk out of here with this bag of money _you_ stole first, and I'll be out of your thinning hair in no time. Easy, peasy~"

"Quite the contrary; I was hopin' you'd show ya face here some time or another." Cobblepot said with a wide, sharp-toothed grin.

the short mobster reached under the fat of his gullet, and pulled out a shimmering, chained necklace that he had wrapped around his meaty neck with a blue orb hanging off of it. The sight of such a valuable item being dangled around so carelessly, in the hands of the filth that was Cobblepot, made Catwoman's smirk disappear, and replaced with furrowed brows underneath her orange goggles.

"Aww, what's that matter? Kitty misses 'er favorite collar? Well that's the thing about bein' a thief, innit it; finders keepers."

Catwoman's fist clenched tight in leather. She stared daggers at the fat bastard with her eyes on what was rightfully hers. "Now is _not_ the time to test me, penguin." Catwoman said with claws opened. "That's going to cost you your pudgy little face."

Cobblepot growled angrily. He looked over both sides of him at his sniveling henchmen just standing around. "Well don't just stand there, ya big-headed dumbasses! Get 'er!"

The goons came running at her with brass knuckles and batons in hand. No firearms, just muscle, and barely any skill to catch her—An easy fight. She was a bit disappointing, but not at all surprised.

Catwoman reached into her utility belt for one of her pair of bola; three pellets being held by rope that could be used for a number of uses. She threw them towards the thugs legs, as they wrapped around the thug's ankles. She then went for her infamous leather whip and sent it whirling around one of the thug's wrist. She was able to pull him off his tied feet, and have his face hitting the ground. Just as he was about to get up again, the felonious feline sent one of her heels right into the back of his head, and knock him out.

The second goon swung at her with a baton, but was intercepted when she pulled his arm down, and wrapped her leg around his throat. She whirled herself around until she was able to bring him down with a deadly spin that threw him towards the ground.

"Bad boy~" She smirked before slashing her claws across his face, and knocking him out.

Catwoman looked back at Oswald, just in time to see that disgusting grin of his as the elevator doors closed.

"Ahhahahaha! Better luck next time, Cat!"

And with those final words, the elevator closed with his incessant muffled laughter howling as he traveled downward.

Catwoman sighed. Once again she had to play cat n' canary with the flightless bird. Her only concern was retrieving that necklace as quick as possible, before he has ideas of pawning it away. She could still see it dangling around his fat neck—ruining it with his oily sweat and body odor. She swore when she got it back, she would dip it in disinfectant before even touching it with her bare hands.

Her thoughts were interrupted so suddenly by a loud blast of something being thrown through the wall. Catwoman turned towards the billow of smoke that had formed in the hall; a large, shadowy figure appeared through the smoke to reveal itself as a giant of a man with a pointed nose, and a crudely fitted suit that was ripped up. It moaned a lone growl as it approched her.

Catwoman prepared for harsh fight against this Goliath with claws out. However what she didn't expect was for the giant to suddenly fall to its knees, and slam smack-dab onto his face like a ton of bricks. His fall was so powerful, that it made most of the lights flicker off within the hall. From the shadows of the flickering lights sauntered the man who put down the creature himself; in all his stoic prime as he walked towards Catwoman. Despite his left arm bleeding through the suit and blood from his lips, he looked as though he didn't break a sweat.

"Whoo~ Keep those panties on, Ladies; The creeping Dark Knight himself has arrived!" Catwoman announced. "Care to sweep me off my feet?"

Batman looked towards Catwoman, and immediately noticed the bag in her hand; no doubt filled with stolen money that she was filling it with earlier. He gave her an annoyed glance, but that only made Catwoman want to tease him even more. He knew that she would, and let out a sigh to drop it for now, and focus on the mission.

 **"Where's Cobblepot?"**

"What? No hello?" Catwoman smiled.

Batman suddenly grabbed her arm and forcefully pulled her in close. As frightening as he wanted it to be for her, she only gave off that flirtatious smile of hers.

"Oooh~ You're not gonna bite me, are you?" She said with a purr.

 **"I just got through putting down a giant that could compare to Killer Croc. I don't have time to play this game with you, Selina."**

"Y'know what? This isn't all that nice after all." Catwoman said with her smile turned into a look that matched Batman's own grimace, "Any other muscle bound brute who'd have the balls to grab me like this would lose them without a second thought." She warned him while ripping her hand from his clutches. "We got a cute thing going for us, Bats. Don't assume _yours_ are an exception."

 **"I never assume."**

Batman passed Selina and went straight to the elevator. He sunk his gloved fingers deep into the slit of the elevator, and gave a mighty heave to opening it wide. He was immediately met with the dark, sinking tunnel that went down quite a ways. It reeked of that old industrial smell, and even a bit of sulfur. A more fitting scent for an eyesore of night-gallivanting such as Iceberg Lounge, and even more fitting for a guy who'd throw his enemies or subordinates down the elevator shoot.

"Well since you're on your way to clutch your hands around Pillsbury dough boy's gullet, I figured I'd clue you in on a bit of juicy gossip." The Cat addressed to him with arms crossed. "And you _know_ how much I _love_ gossip when it benefits me."

She _was_ right. When ever Catwoman had something interesting to share with Batman, it always served the dual purpose of helping him solve a case, but also benefited her own agenda. And sometimes, those agendas aided her in her escapes. None the less, this still peeked Batman's interest with a small nod to the side.

 **"Make it quick."**

"Why? Penguin's not going anywhere." Catwoman said with certainty. "In fact, I bet he's down on the dance floor right now; walking into the club and basking in victory, before toasting the crime lords with his ' _special brand_ ' of champagne; shipped all the way from South America."

 **"Special brand..."**

Batman took a moment to remember his past investigations on Cobblepot's movements. He remembered Cobblepot's shipments were from a small island in South America for heavier guns. However, he now realized that the heavy artillery was simply a front for whatever it was that he _really_ wanted. He looked back at the giant he put down and could see his glowing, green veins slowly disappear, while he laid on his side to quietly vomit out a strange green liquid. Batman had seen such a display before...it all became clear;

 **"...Bane."**

"Pardon?" Catwoman asked.

Batman turned to face her.

 **"You remember Knightfall, don't you?"**

The memories of Knightfall were fresh in Catwoman's mind. By her account, those were some of the most darkest days she had ever seen in Gotham. It was almost something out of a horror film, it got so bad. Just remembering those times put a shutter down her spine.

"Ugh...how could I _not_?" Catwoman recalled, "What about it?"

 **"There was a giant of a man—similar to the one back there—named Bane. He orchestrated the entire Knightfall event. He had something in his blood stream that gave him enhanced physical strength. It was called Venom. It could only be found in a specific small island in South America. _That's_ what Penguin had brought into Gotham."**

Batman leaped into the dark elevator shaft as he quickly descended towards where the elevator itself had stopped. Once he could see it quickly approaching, he used his grapnel gun to shoot the longest wire that it could produce towards the roof, and stop himself mid-fall. This put tremendous strain on his wounded left arm, but he forced himself to push past the pain. He stopped just below the basement level, where the elevator stopped, and was hanging right in front of the double doors towards the second floor. The first was right below him.

He landed onto the top of the elevator, and connected the metal wire of his grapnel gun onto one of the latches of the elevator. With one half of the metal wire connected to the ceiling of the elevator shaft, and the other onto the elevator itself, his plan was set.

Just as he expected, He heard a zipping noise quickly descending down towards him from above. He looked up for a moment to see a body wrapped in a leather black suit was sliding down the rope he had just set up. Batman moved to the side for her to land onto the elevator with him.

"Phew! That was uncomfortable..." Catwoman sighed. "So anyway, about this _venom_ stuff; Penguin's gonna announce a toast soon, and if those crime lords take that stuff to the head, they'll be brainless monsters like _Lurch_ up there."

 **"It's not gonna come to that."**

Batman opened the compartment latch, and slipped right into the elevator, with Catwoman naturally following behind him. Batman ripped his fingers right in between the slit of the doors, and pulled them apart until the doors were opened. The light of the elevator illuminated a rather dark, marble hallway that lead to a pair of double doors that were in the form of pure ice glaciers. Through them, the duo could see flashing lights, and feel the pounding music as they stepped out of the elevator.

"No screaming people yet. Guess we've arrived in time to get a lil dancing in." Catwoman said playfully as she bumped her hip into Batman's. He said nothing, and continued forward. Selina sighed, and followed him onward.

The light from the elevator had closed, leaving the only source of light to be the flashing of red, blue, and green from beyond the double doors.

 **"So what are you _really_ doing here, Selina?"**

Selina was certainly caught off guard that he, of all people, was interested in small talk. "Would you believe me if I said I'm here for the free drinks after twelve?"

 **"Highly unlikely."**

"Well, don't let it get to your pointy head; surprising as it may seem, I'm actually not in it for the valuables." She explained. "Well...not _all_ the valuables."

 **"And the money?"**

"What? _This_?" Catwoman said with a sly tone. "This is just for community outreach. You understand, don't you?"

 **"I do. And I know this isn't your style."**

"Excuse me?"

 **"While I was distracted with Cobblepot here, nothing could have stopped you from sneaking into his home while he was away and taking about as much as you have in that bag...which, by the way, is fake."**

Catwoman's eyes went wide. She took a quick look at the bag in disbelief, then back to Batman. "What do you—"

 **"—Penguin stole from Bruce Wayne's private investments bank a week ago. I've been tracking Penguin and many others for years; I recognize their pattern of movement. Every bill was replaced with counterfeits the night before he broke in."**

Catwoman scoffed. She removed the bag off of her and threw it to the side like garbage. Batman watched this and saw her actually pouting about it. Admittedly, he did find it rather charming.

"thanks for ruining all the fun _again_." She said in disappointment. "Well, whatever. What I'm here for isn't money anyway. There's something else I want from Ozzy...Something he stole from me."

 **"A thief robbed by another thief. Your image is beginning to stagnate."**

"Says the boy-scout who just used a gun not too long ago..." Catwoman brought up, "Speaking of which, what _did_ you use that sniper for?"

 **"You'll see."**

Selina was about to ask, but was interrupted once she realized they were standing right before the glacier doors. The bass could physically shake them to the very bone with how loud it was in there. Not only that, but the lights looked as though they would give anyone seizures just starring at them. No frantic screams, or people running out meant that all was still calm. Just the sounds of people cheering and music pumping.

"Any idea on where he could be in there?" Catwoman asked.

 **"The lights are flashing at an intense visual pattern. I won't be able to get a clear view from here."**

"Uh huh, you do that, while I find him _my_ way."

Catwoman strolled on down the hall with that mischievous sauntering she always did that swayed her hips from side to side. Whenever she walked like that, it always meant nothing but trouble; both in _and_ out of the masks.

 **"I'm warning you. If I find so much as a coin missing from any of their pockets..."**

"Relax~ Just call me when you find 'em, and I _might_ just share." Catwoman waved.

She then leaped onto one of the vents above, and ripped it right open. Just as her name suggest, Catwoman easily leaped into the tight, metal space with the agility of a feline, and crawled her way into the party.

Meanwhile, Batman stuck close to the doors while kneed down to listen in on any sudden spark of panic—whether from Penguin, his powered up henchmen, or Catwoman herself. In the meantime, he needed to contact Alfred for an update.

 **"Alfred. see if you can detect Cobblepot's location by hacking into the Iceberg Lounges' security system. I can barely see anything from all the flashing lights."**

 _(Alfred) "Already on it, sir."_

 _(Catwoman) "Alfred! That's a name I haven't heard in a while."_

Batman massaged the bridge of his nose in aggression.

 **"You gave her our private radio frequencies...? What am I saying, of _course_ you did..."**

 _(Alfred) "Oh, I do apologize, sir. I wasn't aware this was a 'no girls allowed' frequency."_

 _(Catwoman) "You tell 'em, Alfy! Oh! Before I forget; could you please tell me how you makes those delicious scones of yours. I've been dying to find out."_

 _(Alfred) "I'm afraid that's a family secret._"

Batman sighed.

 **"Not the time, You two. Alfred, did you find him?"**

 _(Alfred) "Oh, yes, of course. He's currently sitting northwest of the back of the club, away from the dance floor."_

 _(Catwoman) "On my way. Try to keep up, sweetie~"_

 _(Alfred) "Also, do hurry, sir. You have 10 minutes left till the Batwing arrives."_

 **"Plenty of time. Thanks, Alfred."**

Batman shut off communications with Alfred. In the meantime, he opened the miniature screen on his gauntlet and dialed in coordinates to the Iceberg Lounge.

 _(Catwoman) "Y'know, you really should invite me into your man cave one day." Catwoman suggested. "After all; I already know where it is."_

 **"How could you not? You've been trying to steal from Bruce Wayne's mansion for years now."**

There was a small silence between the two. Too long for Batman to easily ignore and continue typing. Usually he'd hear a witty comeback, but instead she stayed silent. Something was definitely off.

 **"What is it?"**

 _(Catwoman) "Why do you do that?"_

 **"Do what?"**

 _(Catwoman) "Refer to Bruce Wayne as if he's a completely different person?"_

Batman said nothing.

 _(Catwoman) "I've noticed you do that more often now then before...what's that all about?"_

 **"It's nothing. Just a habit."**

 _(Catwoman) "Right...look, Bruce...I know things haven't been easy these last few years with all that's happened with...him...but you can't start losing your head to what matters. You...know who you are...right?"_

At that moment, Batman _did_ begin to take her words to heart. It felt like the wounds of old still left him in pain, and he only ever felt truly alive when he wore the cape and cowl. Was it part of the job...or to just hide his shame? He began to wonder how long it had been since he was able to keep the suit off for more then a whole day. Back then, he was Batman every night, but as the years went on from there, he only had to suit up four of five times a week. Nowadays he just can't stay inside at night. He felt as if he _had_ to go...otherwise those wounds would bother him again.

Batman quickly put those thoughts into the back of his mind to focus on his schematics.

 **"You've got 10 minutes in there. I'll join you shortly."**

Batman heard a low sigh from his communicator.

 _(Catwoman) "Got it..."_

Catwoman was just about to turn off her communicator.

 **"Selina..."**

 _(Catwoman) "Yeah?"_

Her voices perked up for a moment; as if she were expecting something to be said from him. Perhaps it was something brief that let her know that it was Bruce talking and not Batman. She just needed to know he was still him.

She got what she wanted.

 **"...Try to play nice."**

It wasn't much, but it was just the thing she needed to continue on.

 _(Catwoman) "I always do, handsome~"_

* * *

The Iceberg Lounge lit a large enough social flame to gather almost 700 people into its domain. The music had blasted on its highest volume that it could create its own earthquake in the club, while lights flashed in all directions. The crowd of people on the dance floor were a dark sea of raised hands with drinks in them, while their screams and hootings of a good time filled the room as loud as the actual song playing. However, the real action took place behind thick curtains in the far back of the club. Inside, there was was a round table that sat in the middle of the small space, with a chandler hanging just off to the side. There was a total of at least five to six men; all dressed in expensive suits, and at least two of them carrying conceled handguns due to Cobblepot not allowing weapons into his clubs...or to be more precise; weapons that weren't _his_.

All eyes settled towards the man of the hour, who twirled his umbrella in one hand, while smoking on one of his cuban cigars. His confidence was not lost on the other mafia bosses, and was taken as something ominous.

"So then, are we enjoyin' our lil soiree?" Penguin said with a chuckle. "There's plenty of drinks to go around. Help ya selves."

Cobblepot was referring to the bottles of alcohol placed on the table. They didn't resemble anything in brand with what they're use to drinking. Some suspected it to be tainted or poisoned. Others were just curious of its taste since they looked ported from another country. Either or, it put a feeling of unease in all of them.

"Where's it from?" One of them asked.

"This, ma friends, is a top-of-the-line brand that's not seen the world beyond the lil place in South America that it was birthed from." Cobblepot explained as he reached for a bottle himself to show off. "I had a lil bit of it meself, and I can say it's worth the millions I put down for 'em."

"Yeah, well I ain't drinkin' nothin' that's from the islands." One of them refused. "Last time I got a sip of stuff like that, my insides were doin' the _macarena_ for a month. No thanks."

The others soon agreed to pass on the drinks. Though Cobblepot did his best not to show it, he was becoming incredibly annoyed by the stubbornness of these fools. Then again, he had a feeling this would happen, and commenced with having to prove to them it was good.

"'Right then. More for me." He said happily as he used the screw to rip open the bottle with a loud _pop_. The others looked on in anticipation as the long-nosed club owner downed some of the bottle into his fat throat. Once he had enough, he slammed the bottle onto the table with a satisfied grin.

"Aaaah, that hit the spot, it did." He said with an eye to the others. "See? Nothin' to it."

The bosses took a moment to contemplate it. They were never mislead by Cobblepot before, and always got what they paid for. It was just that they had heard of his cruelty and were a bit on edge when he just all of a sudden asked them to all come to the Iceberg Lounge for drinks. They figured he was gonna poison them at first, but after seeing that they drinks were harmless, they had second thoughts brewing in their minds.

Finally one of the them spoke up; "Aaah, what the hell! I'll take one!"

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about! Let's have us a good night!" Cobblepot said merrily. "Drinks are all on me!"

Almost without warning, A loud bang was heard from above the bosses that made them instinctively reach for their guns. However, in a swift moment, a black shadow had swooped from above, knocked one of the guns out of the boss's hands, and threw something at the other to knock them out. Once they all got a good look at who it was, they were shocked to discover that it was none other then all of their collective pains in their sides who has been robbing them for years now. She was crouched onto the table like the animal in her name.

"Aw, look at the widdle fwightwess biwd in his cage~" Catwoman cooed.

"Ugh! Not you!" Cobblepot yelled harshly as he backed away from the chair. "Why can't you just sod off?-!"

"I could...but where's the fun in that? Now cough it up." Catwoman demanded.

As the bosses put two-and-two together, they began to have a sinking feeling in the pit of their guts.

"W-Wait a minute...! I-If the Cat's here, then that means that...Oh, shit! I gotta get outta here!"

The criminal bosses all got up from their chairs and ran right out of the small space without haste. They went past the crowd of dancing people and straight towards the glacier doors. One of them reached for the latch and pulled, but was cruelly mistaken as it was practically cemented closed. They frantically panicked while yanking at the door—unbeknownst to them that the doors _were_ cemented shut. along with a black shadowy cape slipping into the same vent that Selina went into.

Back in the small room, Catwoman had Penguin cornered. He was now a cowering bird in the presence of the predator. She took great pleasure in striking her whip around him, and seeing him cower.

"Stop! Stop it!" Cobblepot pleaded.

"Now what fun would that be, Ozzy?" Catwoman smiled. "Now either give me what you stole, or I fufill my promise with that ugly face of yours."

Just as Catwoman raised her hand to swing her whip across Cobblepot's face, she felt her wrist suddenly grabbed by a familiar, firm hand She didn't even need to look to see who it was.

"Ugh...Party pooper."

 **"Trust me; he'll get a worse sentence at Blackgate."**

"And the other mob bosses?"

 **"Tied up and waiting for GCPD. Just like Cobblepot will."**

Cobblepot took that opportunity to point his umbrella at the costumed duo and let off a round from its tip. The two easily dodged the shot, but Cobblepot go back on his feet to grab one of the venom bottles and went for one of the unconscious mob bosses. By the time Bat and Cat were back on their feet, they could see Penguin grabbing him by the back of his collar and lifting him up enough to have his face seen by the two.

"Ya too late, dynamic dimwits!" Penguin proclaimed. "You might of taken out one of 'em Batman, but you ain't never face one that's guzzled this stuff down by mouth! Bottoms up!"

 **"No!"**

But the Dark Knight was too late. Penguin had made the unconscious boss drink down the bottle by forcing it into his mouth. Batman ran for Penguin—just in time to knock the bottle from his grimy little hands, give him a harsh punch to his pudgy gut, and kick him right to the ground.

Penguin writhed in pain as he cried out "You bloody...! Augh...!"

Batman didn't bother to pay attention and simply handcuffed Penguin's wrist to one of the nailed down table legs.

"Well, alls well that ends well, huh?" Catwoman figured.

 **"Not quite."**

Selina was just about to ask, but she quickly got her answer by the looks of the mob boss, who was shaking violently on the ground while screaming in unbearable agony. He slowly began to form the same green veins on his arms and neck that the other giant had above. Only this time, they saw first hand how the transformation occured. The first to change were his arms, which grew with the sounds of his skin being stretched and his bones cracking in all places. Then his his chest began to expand with the sound of his ribs breaking apart. Then came his legs that dragged across the floor till they bled and ripped from his shoes. And finally, his head also grew in size as his eyes almost looked as though they would burst from the lids, and his jaw stretched to fit the sharper teeth that grew in the place of his normal ones forcefully ripped from his gums.

Finally, the creature had been able to stand up on its own beefed up legs and tower over both Batman and Catwoman. It huffed like a dog, but toppled over them like a large bear. And its roar; the roar was so intense that it practically blew air and was louder then the music from outside the small room. The music had stopped to a screech, and the partying company were silent and confused.

"Y'know what..." Catwoman said fearfully. "I don't think I wanna play nice with this one..."

The duo heard the sounds of a loud cackling coming from behind the giant to see it was a squirming Cobblepot who was simply basking in the moment.

"Heh heh heh! That's just what you two get!" He said, "Now ya gonna have t' deal with another one of my monsters! Better put 'em down soon 'fore he decides to make a meal outta the guest out there! Hahahahahahahaha!"

The giant mob boss roared, before charging at the two with arms swinging. The Bat and Cat leaped out of its path and watched it rip itself from the small space's curtains. He roared and howled viciously as the crowds of people went into a frenzy of panic that made them all begin to run away from the monster and towards the closest exit they could find. Hell, some even used chairs to break through the door that Batman had previously cemented shut.

The monster was about to run after the crowd, but was deeply wounded by something sharp sinking into its arm. It looked back and saw The Dark Knight holding its arm back with his grapnel gun. Despite his best effort, Batman could barely hold him back for much longer. Seeing this struggle, Catwoman used her black whip to wrap it around the giant's other arm. Now the two of them were pulling this creature back from attacking again.

Despite their best efforts, they could barely hold on to the giant from slowly attempting to break free.

"Any...bright ideas...?-!" Catwoman asked.

 **"One...! If my suspicions are true...!"**

Batman used the grapnel gun to fly right over the giant's head and appear in front of it. The beast of a man roared an ungodly roar that made Catwoman lose her grip. The beast had been freed, but was caught off guard at the sight of the Dark Knight running towards him. The beast swung its arms, but was easily blocked by batman's forearm. From there Batman let loose a flurry of concentrated attacks that had hints of Wing Chun, but had been improvised for his larger opponent.

The long combo of strikes did seem to take down the creature just yet, as it still had plenty of fight left in it to throw a haymaker at Batman that almost hit, but was easily perceived by the Dark Knight as he ducked out of its path.

The creature was about to strike again, but was bludgeoned square in its face by a pair of heels. It was distracted enough to allow Catwoman to land by Batman and for the Goliath to step back onto the open dance floor, where more room was present.

"That hurt him?" Catwoman said in surprise. "I'll be damned."

 **"I figured as much."**

"Pardon?"

 **"Bane is far too obsessed with Venom. The last thing he'd do is give his best batch to some washed up fool like Cobblepot."**

"Say, what?-!" Cobblepot yelled from within the room.

"Venom with barely enough kick, eh? It just makes him _look_ scary and strong." Catwoman figured. "talk about _when you order it online vs when it arrives._ "

 **"The one I fought upstairs was the only home-grown test subject Bane let Penguin have as a deterrent from him finding out the rest of the bottles were filled with a weaker brand."**

"Why that overgrown bastard...!" Cobblepot yelled again.

"Meaning this guy's as easy to take out as a muscle-bound goon. Purrr-fect~"

Catwoman took off towards the giant with whip in hand, followed by Batman who easily took to attacking first. The giant came swinging with those giant arms of his, but was easily being overpowered by the duos combined attacks of kevlar-encased fist and skin-slashing leather mixed with sharp claws. Its attacks were becoming slower, its breathing was heavier, and all its efforts were going in vain. It didn't take long before the beast had become overpowered by the Bat and Cat, as the music grew louder with a rhythmic form of electro swing.

"Not the dancing I was hoping for, but at least there's music." Catwoman remarked.

The crowd that stood back slowly removed themselves of their fears and only began to cheer at the show the three of them were creating.

Meanwhile on the dance floor, Batman had been able to intercept an incoming fist from the giant by grabbing it, and giving it two hard punches to numb it, before delivering a hard palm strike to the beast's gut. It had been enough to get it onto its knee.

Meanwhile Catwoman leaped into the air to stomp onto the back of the giant's head, in order to step over it and wrap her whip around its neck. Once she landed, the Cat pulled down hard, and was able to get the beast to lean forward towards the Dark Knight.

With one hard uppercut that slammed right into the monster's jaw, it was enough to send it flailing back and falling towards the ground like a brick. The club shook as the giant fell onto the middle of the dance floor—out cold with a broken jaw and a few teeth missing out of his bleeding mouth.

"Phew! _That_ was a workout..." Catwoman sighed. "When we're done here, I'm gonna need a vacation..."

 **"Too much to handle?"**

"Ooooh, so now the Bat's got jokes, huh? Hilarious." Catwoman said with disinterest.

Before Batman could reply, the two were immediately caught off guard by what happened next—The club had suddenly erupted into a thunderous applause from the trapped guest and party goers. It could be assumed that with all the insanity and horrors that go on in Gotham on a daily basis, something such as this was just another marvel to watch from the sidelines. Catwoman naturally took in the limelight of an adoring crowd, while The Dark Knight wasted no time in praise for something he felt needed to be done. He ignored the crowd and tapped Selena's shoulder.

 **"We're not done here yet."**

"Ugh! What is it _now_?" Catwoman sighed.

 **"We need to make sure that all of the contraband that Cobblepot shipped from Bane are disposed of."**

"Yeah, that _we_ part? I'm getting pretty sick of hearing it." Catwoman protested. "Besides, I came here with my own plans in mind."

Catwoman was just about to stroll away, when she suddenly felt a hand grab her arm. She could not hide her bitter stare sent right at the Dark Knight as she tried to break free from his grasp.

 **"For once, can you think about anyone but yourself?"**

"Excuse me?-!" Catwoman yelled. " _You_ of all people got some nerve saying that shit to me!"

There was a moment of silence between the two as they both shared intense stares at each other, with neither one letting up. Selina didn't want to give him the satisfaction of getting any upper hand again. That's how it always was with the two of them; even before _his_ death. But now it feels like its been almost suffocating whenever they work together. Some moments were good, while others were insufferable to tolerate. _This_ was the latter of the two, and Catwoman didn't feeling going through another moment like this again. It was better to just go with the flow that time around and just get it over with.

"Fine!" Catwoman said as she ripped her arm away from him. "But this is the last thing I'm doing for you, Bats. Unless it involves either stealing valuables, or you needing a well-deserved kick in the ass."

 **"Good. That's all I'll need."**

Batman reached into his utility belt and gave her a small device with a screen on it.

 **"I took a sample of the Venom from the other giant upstairs. Use this to find where he's hidden the shipment and destroy it with the explosive gel attached."**

"Yeah, yeah..." She said lazily as she snatched the device from his hand.

With that, Catwoman walked off through the crowd of people blocking her way, then leaped back up into the vents above. Batman watched her leave for only a moment. He had no time to think of a way to sooth her, and needed to keep his priorities in tact.

He stormed back over towards where Cobblepot was, to see him trying to escape by pointing his umbrella gun at the chain of the handcuffs. A fruitless effort though, considering those chains were made from the hardest metal ever made. It would just ricochet and get him more hurt. Once he saw the Dark Knight, however, he immediately dropped the umbrella and cowered fearfully in his little corner.

"N-Now wait a minute...!" Cobblepot pleaded. "J-Just hold on a second...!"

Batman ignored his graveling and lifted him by the collar to bring him in threateningly close.

 **"Before I send you off to Blackgate, Cobblepot, you're gonna answer some of my questions. Lie to me, and we'll see if Penguins can fly when dropped from fifteen stories."**

"Aaah! A-Alright! Alright, ya got a deal...! Whadd'ya want?-!"

 **"Tell me everything you know about a man named...Prometheus."**

* * *

Catwoman stood in the dark hallway; checking her clawed nails, all the while waiting for the brooding Knight to finish whatever it was he needed to take care of on the dance floor with Cobblepot. Her part wasn't that difficult to take care of. Take out a few of the buffoons who were safe-guarding the champagne bottles, blow it all up, and sit back while counting the credit cards and loose cash she had stolen from the guest while passing by the crowd earlier. Though it was satisfying to get some actual thievery into her busy schedule, she still was only concerned with getting what she came to Iceberg Lounge to retrieve in the first place.

Her time to herself was interrupted by a strange ringing coming off of her own private communication's line.

"Um...hello?"

 _(Alfred) "Ah, Ms. Kyle. Good to see the old secret comms you and I made still works."_

"Yeah, whoopee." Selina waved off, "Anyway, what're you calling me for? Aren't you _Bruce's_ personal man-servant?"

 _(Alfred)_ _"_ _Well...I don't do this very often, but I feel if I must speak to anyone, it's you. I...I wanted to ask you to...well...try to help Bruce as much as you can."_

"Help? Help?-! All I've been _doing_ is helping!" Selina said with outrage."For the last couple of months after all that happened, I've tried to get close to Bruce again, trust me I did! There hasn't been a time where I didn't miss the fun we had, but now..." Her tone grew solemn as she crossed her arms in deep thought. "...now it doesn't feel like there's anything between us anymore...and now you want me to help _him_? I don't think that's gonna work, Alfred."

 _(Alfred)_ " _I implore you, Ms. Kyle; you've known Master Wayne since you both were just starting establish yourselves in Gotham. He is...not himself as of late...He's become so overwhelmed with insufferable guilt, that it seems to have manifested into him fully embracing the cowl...I'm afraid he is pushing himself so deep into his alter ego, that he can no longer grasp who he is anymore."_

"Yeah, I can see that..." said a troubled Selina. "To be honest...I can't blame 'em. Still, can't he call for the other bird boy to give him a pep talk?"

 _(Alfred)_ _"I'm afraid those two aren't on the best speaking terms...perhaps when he's ready, he'll_ —"

"Don't give me that ' _when he's ready'_ crap, Alfred!" Selina yelled. "You know as well as I do that he's acting like this because of..." Selina's sentence trailed off once she could hear the familiar growling and yelling of a certain flightless bird being forced through the ventilation above. She sighed while putting the stolen wallets away in her belt, "...Gotta go, Alfalfa. Time to take the stage."

Not a moment too soon did a howling, pudgy ball of fat in a suit came flying down from the open vent and flat onto his face. The impact had been enough to break his nose a let blood drip onto the floor. Poor bastard couldn't even wipe his nose due to the handcuffs. What also fell through was the dark shroud of the Dark Knight following right behind.

Selina took a deep breath to clear her mind, before simply walked up to the fallen Cobblepot and crouching to his pathetic, groaning level. She had a wicked grin on her face; filled with the many horrible ideas she would have in mind with him. The smile certainly made Cobblepot feel uncomfortable. She pulled him up by the back of the collar and sat him up.

"I'll take this..." She said while removing the beautiful necklace from around his meaty neck. It was covered in sweat, but other then that, she was happy to have it back in her possession once again. "And this—" She was just about to take his other valuables, but was stopped by a sharp glare from a pair of judging eyes that made her sigh in annoyance.

"Uagh! Y-You're gonna regret that, Cat! Ya hear me?-!" Cobblepot exclaimed. "You're gonna regret—Agh!"

Cobblepot was interrupted once he was grabbed by Batman, and dragged towards the elevator He kicked and squirmed, but to no avail. Batman pushed the doors to open, and threw Penguin right into it like a heavy bag, before they ended up shutting on their own. From there, Batman reached into his belt and pulled out a small trigger that was immediately pressed.

All of a sudden, the echoing shriek of the Penguin could be heard as it traveled up the elevator before going faint in a matter of seconds. The rope launcher Batman had placed in the elevator had done its job in sending him upward towards the roof.

 _(Alfred)_ " _Sir, the Batwing is right where you want it."_

 **"Good."**

He ended the call with Alfred and looked towards Catwoman, who was still a bit upset about him completely ignoring her.

 **"You asked what those two sniper rifle shots were for."**

"Yeah...?"

For the first time in what felt like a long time, Selina was shocked to see Batman...or Bruce, smile. It was a tab bit unsettling.

 **"3...2...1."**

* * *

Outside, hovering high over the giant iceberg lounge with a roaring engine was the infamous black aircraft known as _The Batwing_. Protruding from the bottom of it was a flat metal surface made of a magnetic compound.

At the top of the lounge's tallest point were two small sticky bombs that could have only been able to reach such a point with a military grade sniper rifle. The two bombs were slowly counting down to 0 as the echoing cry of a frightened Penguin began to reach the skies. As the rope launcher connected to the elevator pulled up, it gained an increasing amount of speed to that of 50 to 70 mph.

Finally, the two bombs explode and completely decimate the top of the lounge's iceberg, but not take the entire building with it. The real objective was to weaken the roof enough to send the entire elevator box flying through the roof, and high into the star-filled sky.

Just about everyone in Gotham could hear the shrilled scream of the once infamous, and dangerous Oswald Cobblepot as he cried like a baby towards the entire city.

But the humiliation did not stop there, as the Batwing's magnetic surface had been in perfect position to be attached to the metal of the elevator and stick right onto it without haste.

Inside, Cobblepot laid there—defeated, terrified, and queezy all at the same time. He desperately tried to hold his composure from falling unconscious on the elevator's floor.

"U-Ugh...! I'll...! I'll get you f-for this...B-B-Bat...ma...Oh bloody hell...!" Cobblepot could no longer keep his champagne down and relieved his stomach within the elevator.

Outside, the Batwing began to take off into the night, and soared across Gotham skies, on it's way to GCPD.

* * *

Once all had finally cooled down, and most of the crime lords were arrested once the cops arrived, Batman and Catwoman once again looked at the scene from the building they both started from. They saw the police surrounded the giant club for anymore of Penguin's men to arrest. They even saw the emergency crew hall off the two unconscious giants that Penguin infected with venom in a gurney. They're bodies had easily dispensed of the Venom through puking, which was fortunate for Batman that he didn't need to create an antidote. Still, he wanted to be safe then sorry.

"Aah!~ What a night!" Catwoman said while stretching her arms out. "You got what you wanted, and so did I."

 **"Did you? What was it?"**

Catwoman wondered if there was any point in telling _him_? It's not like the man underneath would be the one to answer her anyway. "Oh, nothing you'd probably care about..."

Batman could see her troubled expression. He knew it very well. It was the expression she's made a lot nowadays ever since _he_ died. Batman couldn't blame her—After what's happened after that fateful night, and the feeling of being so powerless to save _one_ life...it weighed on him heavily. Even now, a year later, it still leaves a raw taste in his mouth when it somehow entered his thoughts. It was beginning to bleed out of him and affect those he's close to...this is how it's always been until he had no choice but to push them away. This just seemed to be his curse.

But at the very least, he could be honest with _her_.

Batman stepped away from the edge of the roof, and stood a bit a ways in the center of the rooftop. Selina followed in curiosity, but didn't expect what he did next. He switched off his voice manipulator, and...removed his mask.

Selina could finally see the man she had once loved, what felt like, so long ago as he turned to face her...he looked weathered—dark, natural bags under his eyes, and dried blood on his rugged chin. His unkempt hair was steadily turning a salt n pepper grey. But yet he turned his eyes—his _real_ eyes, towards Selina with that same honest stare he had always given her.

"Selina...I'm sorry." Bruce said solemnly. "There's still so much...I just can't put into words what I feel when I'm _not_ Batman...it's an uncomfortable sensation to me every time I take the suit off...like ripping off my own skin, yet not feeling pain..."

"So what, you're just some masochist who wants to go out and get himself beaten to death to feel something? Is that it?-!" Selina said bitterly.

She too had finally removed her goggles, and taken off her helmet to reveal a beautiful young woman with pixie-short, raven colored hair. She looked Bruce in the eyes with her own enraged green orbs. "Why do you do this to yourself, Bruce?-! You put yourself through all this unnecessary hell and suffer with all these wounds that could kill you, and for what?-! Because you can't look at yourself in the mirror for what happened to—"

"Don't you _dare_ say his name!" Bruce shot back at her. "It was _my_ fault! _I'm_ the reason he was killed! I can barely eat, I can't sleep, and when I do, all I see is him...! All I see are his cold, lifeless eyes...starring back at me...And I just...I just don't know anymore..."

Selina saw the pain Bruce had been through. She knew there was no way he could've been able to hold all of that negative energy within him, and not feel different on the inside. She only wished he had done this sooner then later. She wished he had time to actually grieve for his loss, rather then jump right back into the cape and cowl...she wished he could just talk to her. She hoped now was the time.

She held his hand tightly in hers.

"Bruce... for once, please just...let me in..."

For a moment, the two looked into each other's eyes to see neither could waver at all. on the surface, their eyes burned with anger, but at the same time, the passion had oozed through the tension. Both could feel it ease its way into their chest to ignite something into them—something not felt in so long. They had almost forgotten what it felt like.

They no longer had control of their own bodies, and let passion drive them. They embraced one another and locked lips in the heat of fire. It burned so harshly that it could scorch them both. The one night of this familiar, riling sensations as their tongues battled for dominance. Their arms growing tighter around one another until they could feel each other's fingers sink into their suits. All they wanted to do was remove themselves of their own heavy burdens, and ravage one another right then and there with no consideration for the dark world around them...

...however off the corner of his eye, Bruce saw it; the shining symbol in the sky calling for the Batman once again.

He almost didn't want to stop himself, but his instinct halted his tongue.

Selina quickly noticed this, and also saw the symbol in the sky calling for him. She could almost shed a tear just by the sight of it. She had the right mind to go over there, punch Gordon in the face, and destroy that damned skylight herself.

Bruce slowly removed Selina. He looked into her grieving, emerald eyes. She looked as if she was about to watch someone go off into an unwinnable war...in a way, Bruce _did_ feel himself going away—once again, putting the cowl back on, and adopting the voice he felt true solace with.

 **"I'm sorry..."**

"I know...go..."

Without another word, Batman stormed off towards the other side of the building, and took flight with his cape into the towering city beyond.

Selina could only stand there, forced to watch him leave her again. She no longer had him in her arms anymore and probably wouldn't for a very long time...she had lost him to the darkness again.

All that she had left of him, all that she had to remember him by...was a stupid necklace she tried so desperately to get back from the Penguin. She almost had the rage-filled idea to chuck the dumb thing into the street and be rid of it once and for all. It was nothing truly expensive anyway. It was cheap, lousy, and ultimately useless...

...But he made it himself...just for her...

Her trembling hand and streaming tears wouldn't allow her to be separated from it. Instead, she held it close to her chest.

It may have been cheap...but it was her everyday little thing that she cherished most.


	5. April: Repeating the Past

Why does the past repeat itself?

Who or what made the rules for humanity to say that our yesterday could be our tomorrow? A strange spiral of deja vu; like having a dream of the future and then living it again. Strange occurrences that you'd only expect once in a life time to happen again down the road. At some point, our past will catch up to us and force us to face it all over again. The only difference is that we can either be prepared for it, or let it sink us.

* * *

 _ **12 YEARS AGO**_

* * *

Another rainy night in Gotham.

Deep in the streets at its latest time of the night—where no other cars were out—driving at speeds beyond the normal limit was a massive, sleek black car that looked more like a military vehicle then a car. Inside of it, sat two individuals—the famous Bat vigilante known as The Batman, and a young ward no older then fourteen years old.

Batman's suit was similar to the usual grey and black he would always wear. However this earlier batsuit had a smaller bat symbol across his chest, regular black gloves with brass knuckles attached to them, similar short ears on the cowl, and less protective under armor.

Meanwhile the young boy that was sporting black short hair with a black domino mask across his eyes, wore a similar suit to Batman's—right down to the cape, belt, gloves, and boots. The only difference was that _his_ was a red top, with yellow latches going down his torso, green kevlar sleeves that stretched into black and green gloves, and a yellow "R" emblem on the left breast. His lower half was darker green, and his black boots had knee pads attached. His cape was black on the outside but yellow on the inside.

"So what's the job tonight, boss?" The boy asked. "I really wanna try out the new escri...escry..."

 **"Escrima sticks. And it was a distress call from the GCPD computer coms. There's been a disturbance at a near-by industrial plant."**

"Any idea why?"

 **"That's what we're on our way to figure out."**

"Seriously? Y'know, it's pretty dumb of criminals to still do bad things out here. Don't they know the Bat'll get em?"

 **"It's not the suit, Dick, but the man _inside_ the suit that can move mountains."**

Dick shrugged with a grin on his face. "True...Oh, this is it!"

* * *

 _ **12 YEARS LATER-APRIL**_

* * *

The Batmobile pulled up to an old industrial company park that had since been abandoned for many a years. It was about 14 acres of land that had been filled with concrete buildings and industrial pipes that use to pour toxic fumes into the Gotham city for years. Bruce Wayne deemed the entire company a safety hazard to the city, and was able to have it shut down. He of course gave all the workers compensation, and even gained some new employees. He always wanted to build something in place of this closed down facilities, but there were still sensitive chemicals on the grounds that could be deemed a hazard. And so the old factory has sat here gathering dust, and forgotten by time.

At least that's how it was _suppose_ to be. Now it seemed that someone has some business with the old place from the ripped open metal gates that looked as though they were were just clawed through. But the question remained as to who would want to break in to this old place on a rainy night such as this?

 **"Alfred, I've reached the old Bannon Industrial Power Plant. Any sign of him from the Batwing?"**

 _(Alfred) "You mean besides the fact that he ripped a hole through those metal gates? Well, based on the patterns, he's been coming and going for weeks now; spelunking through the main building's pipe lines...oh, my..."_

 **"What is it?"**

 _(Alfred) "Well...you'll be happy to know that he's not alone. There seems to be someone else within the boundaries of the Bannon industries. Judging by his movements, he seems to have movements similar to your own. However his are more...agile."_

 **"I see. Keep me posted if anything."**

 _(Alfred) "Of course, sir. Let's hope his mouth does not get him into trouble. Also, Mr. Fox has been trying to contact you for quite some time now."_

 **"Good. Put him on."**

 _(Alfred) "Right away."_

There was a brief switch in communications, before another voice spoke; this one a little younger then Alfred but still in the vain of elderly. He had a deeper voice and definitely was African American.

 _(Lucius) "Ah, Mr. Wayne. About time you answered my calls. I was beginning to believe you'd lost use for me."_

 **"You always were a patient one, Lucius. Is it ready?"**

"Just putting a few finishing touches on it. It'll be ready in another 10 minutes and sent right to your closest location."

 **"Thanks, Lucius. I'm definitely gonna need it for tonight."**

Batman cut off communications and climbed right into the shattered gate. The second he entered the official property of the abandoned industrial site, he was immediately met with a thunderous roar that howled from the main building; standing the tallest among others. Batman hurried towards the towards the roar, along with the sounds of destruction. He pulled out his grapnel gun and shot towards the roof. He then zipped himself up into the air and leaped onto the wet, slippery surface—careful to not slide right off from the rain.

* * *

 ** _12 YEARS AGO_**

* * *

 **"Be careful, Dick."**

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya!" Robin responded.

He may have sounded confident, but in that wasn't enough to put Batman at ease. He was only hoping Robin didn't slip off the wet rooftop. He was agile, but could be too reckless when it came to stealth at times. Batman would sometimes believe that the showmanship in him is what brings out his need to feel like putting on a show when doing this. It was sometimes a strength but wasn't necessary to getting the job done. He only hoped with age, that would change.

Both slowly stepped across the the spine of the rooftop, until they could reach one of the windows on the side of the roof. Through the window, they could barely make out a few dozen people screaming as they ran towards the exit from a blazing inferno burning from the other side of the Factory. Loud sirens blared from inside.

"I'm guessing that's not the clock out bell." Robin figured.

Batman reached into his utility belt for a small sticky bomb to stamp onto the window. Both he and Robin shielded themselves from the explosion with their capes, before leaping right into the factory and into the fray of danger.

Upon touching the ground, they immediately felt the intense heat from the great fire burning right in front of them. But what really kept them staring at the fire was something walking out of the flames as if it were water. At first it looked like a normal human being who was lucky enough to make it out, however, once he had walked out of the flames, they were almost put a back by what they saw.

It was a man...or the closest thing to one. He was practically a giant compared to Batman and Robin. And his skin...his skin was almost like that of a...crocodile? His clothes were completely burned off save his pants, showing his whole body was covered in the crocodile scales from head to toe. His piercing yellow eyes and hissing growl were enough to put a chill down Robin's spine with every heavy stomp he took. It made Robin's legs shake and put jolt in his foot to step back.

"W-Wha...What...I-Is...?"

 **"Robin, focus."**

Robin looked towards Batman, who stood there with no fear in his eyes at all. He stood so brave and wasn't afraid at all. Robin swallowed his fears, and nodded to him before pulling out his escrima sticks and standing at the ready.

"Y-Yeah...!"

But that confidence quickly dissipated once the giant of a crocodile man let out an intense, and ferocious roar that shook the entire building. It had its sharp teeth wide open, and those horrific yellow eyes starring right at the Bat and the Bird.

Instead of running right at them, the crocodile man let out another roar, before it ran to the side of the building, and was headed towards the wall. With its sheer physical strength, the crocodile man had smashed right through it without losing any of his running speed as he took off in the rain. Now he was free to roam within the factory boundaries and possibly the rest of Gotham city if nothing was done to sop him.

 **"Robin, let's go...Robin?"**

Batman stopped his running once he noticed his young ward was not following behind him. He turned to find Robin still standing right where they landed—looking at the burning fire while breathing harshly and going pale. His hands began to tremble while Batman could guess his little heart was beating harshly his chest.

The poor boy. This was the first time he had ever seen and faced something so massive such as...whatever _that_ was. Batman had to admit, he too was perplexed towards what he had just seen himself. It was like some kind of other-worldly creature from hell that ripped itself from the inferno. Despite that, Batman could not believe such a creature would exist. There had to be a logical reason towards its body being the way it was. He was more then ready to take on the challenge of finding the crocodile man. Besides, he's dealt with the strange before...however, Robin was a different case it seemed...

 **"Robin."**

Robin snapped out of his trans-like state and looked up at the Dark Knight with fearful eyes, doing his best to hide them.

"B-Batman, I...I..."

Batman held Robin's shoulder to calm him.

 **"If it's too much for you, wait in the car."**

Robin could hear the sincerity in his modulated voice, but also couldn't help but feel an unintentional hint of pity; as if Robin wasn't man enough to take on such a large threat as this. Whether that was Batman's intention or not, it worked its way into Robin's core and brought out a burning desire to prove himself. If he was going to be Batman's partner, he needed to pick up the pace.

"N-No, I'm good!" Robin answered, "Let me at 'em! I'll show that over-grown crocodile whose boss!"

A valiant effort at bravery, Batman had to give the young lad that, but he knew better. He could see that Robin was still very much frightened over what he had just witnessed. He could see it in those moments of the crocodile man starring them down with those beating, sharp eyes it had. Despite that, Robin _still_ wanted to prove himself by sticking with him even in the face of a possible, grizzly death. As worried as he was, Batman had to honor his choice, and hope to be there with him at all times.

 **"Okay, let's move."**

Robin nodded, and was about to follow Batman as he grapnel gunned himself up towards the roof, but before he did, he happened to stumble upon something shiny that laid right by his foot. It turned out to be something he had only seen criminals and thugs use...it was a single revolver pistol—unknown of what model it was. All Robin knew about it was that it was a gun. He figured it must have been used by one of the workers for self-defense. His breath hitched a moment; it was a gun; the one weapon Batman said they should never have to resort to...and yet, Robin had that terrible dread in his chest that told him they would not be able to fight the crocodile monster...not without precautionary measures. And so, he quickly picked it up and slipped it into the back of his utility belt without Batman seeing.

He then caught up with the Dark Knight onto the roof; guilt slowly corroding his heart.

* * *

 _ **12 YEARS LATER-APRIL**_

* * *

Batman investigated the gaping hole of the old abandoned factory building after recalling the very first time him and Robin ever stepped foot in the place. The hole was all boarded up and made a ghostly, howling noise as most abandoned buildings would in the rain. Looking at the old place, Batman couldn't help but be a little nostalgic to the old days—back when the job entailed dealing with gangs, mob bosses, crooked cops, and other things retained to reality. Now it was all about fighting giant reptiles, infamous assassins, a riddle-obsessed madman, and a crazed clown. Batman has truly seen it all.

But nostalgia was put to the side in favor of another harsh tremor that came from the center of the entire industrial area—most likely where all the action took place.

Batman ran towards the commotion through the back doors; the gargling roars were practically a beacon for the Dark Knight to follow as they got louder and louder the closer he ran towards the wide open area that sat more as a break spot for workers. But upon arrival, instead of a place of relaxation, it was a war zone of craters with fist imprints in them, and claw marks that had reduced whatever semblance of retained splendor the old industrial plant had in the pouring rain.

Lightning had struck across the sky as Batman's attention was quickly brought to the flashing lights cutting across rain. A harsh battle was taking place between a giant of a man that stood taller then even batman in height, and had the muscle mass beyond that of a normal human body's capable width. Despite that, he was dressed in regular clothing of a black leather jacket with the sleeves ripped off, over a dark brown, sleeveless hood, and regular ripped jeans. The bits of normality stopped there, as his skin was like that of a crocodile's, while his sharp teeth and piercing yellow eyes were more close to a demon's.

The fact that someone other then Batman was actually able to stand toe-to-toe with the monster of a man, who roared like a wild beast, was an amazing feet. Even more amazing that the person fighting it was able to evade most of it's ferocious attacks and deal some hits of his own.

The brave young man had black short hair, and a black domino mask over his eyes. He was dressed in an all-black, kevlar suit, with black gauntlets, matching steel-toed boots, and a utility belt similar to Batman's with his own grapple gun hooked onto the back. On his chest was a blue bird; extending it's wings to the shoulders. His weapons of choice were a pair of metal escrima sticks. This mixed with his incredible fluidity in movements and flexible agility, made him a difficult opponent to even get a scratch on. But if that wasn't enough...

"Aaaw, you're not gettin' tired on me, are ya, big guy? Maybe you should lessen the human blubber from your diet!"

...that mouth of his made him insufferable to his opponents.

"UGAAAARGH!-! STAND STILL, YA FUCKIN' BRAT!-!" The giant Crocodile man yelled with a thin Cajun accent, while swinging wildly.

"Uhh, no thanks. I like breathing." The man smirked as he finally got distance between him and the giant. "Tell ya what, double ugly; why not make this easy for the both of us, and just tell me why you're snooping around an abandoned industrial park? I promise I'll give ya a cookie if you do."

"AUGH! WHY SHOULD I ANSWER QUESTIONS TO MA NEXT MEAL!" Croc growled. "ONCE I FINISH YOU, I'MMA LEAVE ROOM FOR THE BAT!"

Almost right on queue, a single baterang and pierced the ground in between the two fighters.

"WHAT?" Croc said perplexed.

"Aw, crap..." Nightwing sighed.

From the top of one of the building, a large object with long black wings spread out as it descended in between the two. The figure in black rose to his feet to reveal himself to the two.

"BATMAN!-!" Croc growled harshly.

 **"It's over, Waylen Jones."**

The very name rose a loud roar from the towering man's sharp-teethed mouth. "WAYLEN'S DEAD! AND SO'RE YOU!-!"

Croc turned his attention towards Batman and charged at him with full speed. Batman could feel every heavy step he took towards him from the bottom of his feet; he certainly grew stronger with his long time absence. Batman leaped out of the way of this incoming train of a man, and joined Nightwing's side as Croc attempted to turn on his scaled heel.

"Well look who decided to join the fun." Nightwing remarked, as he looked towards Batman. "So what's kept _you_ from calling?"

 **"Work."**

"Ah, I getcha. So _this_ is work?"

 **"I've been tracking Croc's movements for months now."**

"Well his _movements_ are comin' right at us!"

Batman looked back just in time to see Killer Croc trudging his way towards the two in blistering speed. He had every intention to slam them with his massive body like a quarterback. Batman instinctively jumped out of the way of his path, however it appeared that Nightwing had other plans. He instead charged his escrima sticks with 10, 000 volts, and stood his ground against the giant of a man.

 **"No!"**

Batman acted quickly and made a grab for his grapnel gun. In a ditch effort, Batman fired the gun and shot the wire right into Killer Croc's arm. His vicious roar of agony and made it clear that Batman had pierced through his rough skin and sunk deep. Batman pulled Croc over to him; forcing the crocodile man to stop in his tracks or risk more pain from his wound. Despite that, Croc was still able to resist and instead grab the wire of Batman's grapnel gun to yank him across the air and towards Croc's clutches.

As his body flew towards the giant of a man, Batman thought quick in reaching into his utility belt for a pair of smoke bombs and threw them at Killer Croc. They immediately exploded into a billow of smoke that masked Croc's special eyes. He coughed and hacked all while growling bitterly and waving his sharp, thick arms around. He could no longer contain himself with all the smoke around him. He made a ditch effort to slam his giant fist into the ground and continue punching through the floors; creating mini tremors as he did.

He had finally begun to break ground, in a literal sense, and quickly fell through the ground—deep into the sewers. Once the smoke had finally cleared, Croc was long gone—leaving Batman and Nightwing on a wild goose chase.

"Man, I swear that dude must go through nail files like crazy." Nightwing quipped, "So, what now? You _did_ let 'em get away."

 **"Not necessarily."**

Batman reached into his utility belt for a small device that resembled a suped-up remote control. He opened the compartment near the top of it to reveal a thin screen with a holographic map on it. There was a small light beeping on it that was moving fast across it.

 **"I planted a micro-tracking agent on his jacket after throwing those smoke bombs. He won't get far."**

" Nothing escapes you, Bruce...as always." Nightwing mumbled.

Since it was swimming in Batman's mind from the moment he arrived on the scene, he figured he had to ask now of all times while tracking Croc.

 **"Why didn't you move out of Killer Croc's way?"**

"I could've taken him."

 **"That's not what I want to hear."**

"And who says I have to answer anything you ask me anymore?" Nightwing said matter-o-factly. "If I remember correctly, I'm working solo now."

 **"Working solo doesn't excuse reckless endangerment."**

"Says the guy who thinks he runs this entire city, while wearing a Bat costume." Nightwing dissed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta go all _Crocodile Dundee_ on his scaly ass before he get's into more trouble."

Nightwing proceeded towards the cratering hole Croc had left behind. It leapt right into the rancid-smelling, feces and gore infested sewers bellow. A rather fitting place for someone like him. Especially with the many caucuses that were eaten out of; some man, others animals. Batman immediately followed behind by falling into the crater as well. By the the time he landed, Nightwing was quite a ways away.

 **"Dick, wait."**

There it was. There was that sympathetic ploy that Bruce loved to use to somehow get to him; even through the mask Dick wore. Dick couldn't stand when he did this to him. He use to do it when he was young, and he still did it even as an adult.

"What, huh? What?" Dick said exasperation, "You gonna try and talk me out of this, 'cause that ship sailed a long time ago. I'm not that scared little brat who pissed himself when he could smell the scent of that monster's growling, sharp-teethed mouth."

 **"I know..."**

Batman proceeded to walk right by him, towards the ledge that lead to a crossroads of sewage.

 **"...be that as it may, I won't sit by and let you get yourself killed here."**

With those words, Batman leaped over the edge and landed in the knee-high sewage of grime, and dirty water from most of Gotham's sewer line. He couldn't help but feel a bit nauseous from the grotesque stench of the round and dark tunnelways that seemed to go on forever in the darkness. The scurrying and squeaking of rats filled the white noise of water echoing through the brick walls.

From behind, Batman heard another heavy splash of footsteps hit the water, followed by small gagging.

While they continued on, Batman figured it would take awhile before Croc showed himself again. With all the walking going on, he might as well try to strike some sort of conversation with his old sidekick for once. It had been quite some time, and neither has really spoken to one another face-to-face since the " _Knightfall_ " incident.

 **"So...I hear you're doing well in** **Blüdhaven** **."**

"I am." Nightwing said proudly. "Me and Babs got Blüdhaven in better shape than what it started out as. Crime's finally lowered to a record 60%, got a good working relationship with BCPD—hell, I was even able to help co-create a protection program for the Rromani."

 **"You've really established yourself** — **You, and Oracle."**

"Oh, we've done more then just _establish_..." Nightwing smiled, "Maybe if you actually opened an e-mail or answer your phone, you'd know that Babs and I are—Oh shit!"

Nightwing was startled by the floating skull that happened to have tapped his foot. Batman stopped to take a look at it with a flashlight attached to his gauntlet; It was still fresh due to the hue of it still being a pinkish red color.

"Ugh! Man, now I _know_ Croc ain't human!" Nightwing complained. "No wonder he's got the skin condition he has."

 **"He was _born_ with epidermolytic hyperkeratosis. The fumes of these sewers he's traveled over the years must've deteriorated his mind. He could be more dangerous than usual."**

"Nothin' I can't handle." Nightwing said with confidence. "Besides, you really didn't need to come here, Bruce—I can take him this time."

 _ **"This**_ **time?"**

What Nightwing said next was said with a more serious tone by how intense his expression was. "What happened back then...it was a different time; a time that happened because I was too scared to do anything...But now, I know I can do this on my—"

 **"Is _that_ what this is about? Vengeance? You going head long into danger with only your wits and those sticks to protect you?"**

"Hey, I learned it from the best." Nightwing jeered with a sly grin.

 **"This isn't a game, Dick. I taught you that blind vengeance doesn't bring about any clarity. It just slowly corrodes you, until you can no longer recognize yourself."**

There was a small silence between them with only the sounds of their footsteps through the water filling the air. In some ways, what Batman said was right, however that wasn't enough to shake the feeling in Nightwing's heart that he needed to do more. Until then, he figured he might as well indulge in what Batman was trying to say. He knew his chance would come soon.

"This isn't about revenge, Bruce. I'm not gonna kill the big guy." Nightwing assured the Dark Knight. "I came here, 'cause Croc was causing a fuss in Bludhaven, and I tracked him down. Once I capture him, I'm draggin' his sorry ass to Bludhaven Police Department."

 **"If you _could._ "**

"Okay, wise guy, then answer this; what's this whispering I'm hearing in Bludhaven's underbelly about a dude named _Prometheus_?"

Batman's full attention turned towards his ex-Partner. That smirk on Nightwing's face was the shit-eating grin he'd been so use to seeing on him when ever he knew something that the great Batman didn't. Judging by the expression, he had something to share, but wasn't gonna let Batman live it down for a moment afterwards. The Dark Knight signed and prepared for the hassle.

 **"What do you know?"**

Nightwing let out an exaggerated gasp. " _Me_? Are you implying that _I_ know more then you? The insanity!"

Batman said nothing. That signature bat-glare was more then enough.

"Okay, okay..." Nightwing said, "So here's the skinny; apparently, our little knight head has become a hot topic around the BCPD water cooler. before coming over to Gotham, he was out on the streets, killin' anything with a badge on it."

 **"Just another cop killer. I've dealt with worse."**

"Oh, trust me; its worse then that." Nightwing said, "Before killing them, he ruined them. We're talking hacking into their personal lives, stalking them at every turn, ruined marriages, destroying their social life...killing their loved ones, while forcing them to recall every single person they themselves have killed in the line of duty—he rips everything from them, until there's nothing left...what kills them next is either him or themselves with their own hands."

 **"Jesus..."**

"You're tellin' me. What about you?"

 **"He told me, by the end of this year, he'd see if I still held on to my resolve. He's planning something big. I recently got a lead from Cobblepot who said he did dealings with him once upon a time—a few weapons crates, but that's about it."**

"Any history on him?"

 **"Not yet, but I'm sure** **—wait, hold on."**

Batman stood very still as he looked around the narrow cavern of murky water and filth along with Nightwing. There was a small tremor that rocked across the ground below their feet that was barely audible through the walls. They were close to the source by possibly a minute's traveling time.

 **"Come on."**

"Age before beauty." Nightwing quipped.

Batman took the lead ahead of Nightwing as the two ran down the sewer towards the cause of such tremors. As they did, Nightwing couldn't help but feel a tad nostalgic traveling through these walls again with Batman...although those old memories were just as frightening to him now as they were all those years ago.

* * *

 _ **12 YEARS AGO**_

* * *

Batman and Robin ran through the murky waters of the sewer in hot pursuit of the crawling crocodile of a man, whose physical strength allowed him to move just as fast as a real reptile. The two could barely keep up with him.

Batman noticed Robin not running to his full speed as he, himself was; most likely due to his fears still weighing him down. Batman made the mistake of possibly asking a lot from a fourteen-year-old who has been doing this crusade for only four years and is now faced with a foe unlike anything he had ever faced before. Batman didn't need to look back at him to imagine his teeth chattering in his lips, and the eyes of doubt mixed with terror behind his mask.

But still he ran...because he, like Batman, like Bruce, wanted to prove himself...a fool just like the person who trained him, Batman thought.

as the chase continued on for this trudging beast, finally it took one glance with those piercing red eyes of his to have him hit the brakes on his running and slide across the slimy trench of water to turn on the heel towards the dynamic duo. Without warning, the crocodile man, with its massive body and vicious disposition, took to it's claws and ran at the two in blistering speeds beyond even a normal crocodile.

 **"Get ready!"**

"Y-Yeah!" Robin said almost timidly. He almost grabbed the hidden pistol on his person, but instead went for his dual escrimas and took to his stance of fighting along side Batman through thick and thin.

The two quickly leaped out of its path in separation. Batman took off towards the giant, who was sliding across the raging sewer water at an abrupt halt before turning on its heel towards the approaching Dark Knight.

Batman threw a barrage of batarangs at the giant to distract it, however it only stood strong and took the sharp blades head on with its thick, scaly arms. The batarangs sunk deep into its skin and bled profusely, but the monster of a crocodile man continued to roar harshly and charge after The Bat; full force.

Batman waited at the right time and leaped off the ground, and over the giant crocodile man to land behind it. The crocodile man obviously had to force itself to stop as it slid across the ground yet again, but this time, it was too distracted by the loud beeping coming from its back. The beeping plastique ignited into a fiery billow of explosive purple gas that consumed the crocodile man in seconds.

The agonizing roar echoed through the sewer as it was blinded by the smoke. Batman took that chance to run straight in and go on the offensive against the crocodile man. He brought his knee up to the monster's round jaw, then from that momentum in the air, kicked it in the face, and finally ended the combo with a clasped-handed punch onto the top of its skull.

The attacks seemed to have some affect on the creature, but not enough to immobilize it completely. It swiftly recovered, and grabbed Batman by his cape to throw him across the sewer, and smack dab into the murky waters.

Batman let out a pain felt groan, but that only made the crocodile man even more relentless. It ran towards the Dark Knight and made a grab for him. It lifted the Bat high above its head, before slamming him right into the watery ground, and slamming its scaled fist right into Batman's gut with a harsh enough impact to have him let out the harshest cry he'd ever done. The crocodile man only finally ceased his assault once he threw the Dark Knight away from him, and into the wall, where he slowly feel onto his hands and knees.

Batman regained what little strength he had to at least not fall face-first into the sewer water, but clutched at his ribs in grave pain. He could taste blood on his tongue as it slowly oozed through his gritted teeth. It was at that moment that he had, surprisingly for the first time, broken a rib.

"Batman!"

Batman looked towards his young ward, who had been all but noticeable to the action. It was a poor decision to make a sound of all times, as this only put a very large target on him. Now those hungry, horrible yellow eyes were pointed right towards the one in the red, yellow, and green.

Its sharp eyes in itself put a chill down the boy wonder's spine so bad, that he felt as though he was going to relieve himself right there. How was he suppose to fight such a massive creature when even Batman couldn't do it? What was a young boy his age to do? Despite all that coursing through his head, Robin swallowed that anxiety, and focused on using that fear as his weapon like Batman taught him to.

The crocodile man took his bravery as a challenge. It once again let out a ferocious roar, before it charged after the young lad like a raging bull. Though frightened, Robin was still able to compose himself enough to rationally jump out of the creature's path. Seeing his chance, Robin ran after the beast, and got the jump on it by wrapping his arms around its thick neck with one of his escrima sticks to hold the arm-lock. The crocodile man roared as it waved its massive body around; violently whirling Robin about. Despite that, the young lad held on as tight as he possibly could, but could feel his grip loosening the more the monster moved.

Finally the crocodile man brought its arms up to grab the boy off of him, but Robin removed himself in time to land onto the ground, and swung his escrima at its open waist. The monster screeched in pain as it clutched its side—giving Robin enough time to grab his second escrima and jump back from it before it has a chance to strike again.

Robin considered himself lucky to get so much as a hit on the giant. He looked towards Batman who, despite still being in pain, already proceeded to inject himself with a strange device into his ribs. Robin assumed it was to numb the pain, but even so, that didn't give the boy wonder much assurance that they'll survive. This was an entirely new kind of enemy beyond anything he remembered training for. This wasn't some thug with predictable movements that was easy to maneuver. This was a full-fledged, man-eating monster who could chew through the boy like jerky. How was he expected to even make so much as a hit on this creature? If _BATMAN_ couldn't even fight him, what could Robin do?

The only thing that he could once the creature turned his way; run.

He quickly took to his heels and ran down the sewers with all his might, as he breathed frantically and his heart racing in his chest. His last thought was worrying if Batman was left behind to be its next meal.

Unfortunately, it seemed Robin was the main course tonight. The Crocodile Goliath came rampaging after the Boy Wonder like the predator it was. This made Robin run even faster through the dirty waters as desperatelly as he could. He truly feared for his own life with tears streaming down his eyes.

He could still hear the roars of the crocodile man as it gained up on him; coming closer and closer and closer, and closer, until...

* * *

 **"I found him."**

Nightwing was brought back to present time upon Batman's announcement. He looked back at his old boss to see him looking on ahead. Nightwing did the same to see a singular pathway down ahead that took another turn.

"Exact location?"

 **"Still a ways ahead. He's taken refuge in Gotham's connecting sewer line."**

"Any abnormalities in heart rate or thermal temperature?" Nightwing wondered while walking ahead of Batman.

 **"Stable. He's calm, for the moment. We should be able to stand a chance as long as nothing sets him off."**

" _ **P** erfect._"

The moment they both heard the echoing deep voice coming from behind them, Batman and Nightwing immediately felt a harsh vibration under their feet, and looked up at each other to discover that they had been separated by a thick, bulletproof wall that was see-through. Batman put away his device and ran up to the wall in trying to break it open, while Nightwing did the same. Neither could barely make a crack at it.

"What the hell is this?-!" Nightwing yelled through muffled calls. "Why can't I—Batman! Behind you!"

Batman braced himself for what Nightwing pointed to. He looked over his shoulder to see a lone figure standing a few feet away from him. He turned completely towards it the moment he recognized a familiar flowing cape, and an even more familair knight's cowl over his head.

 **"Prometheus."**

 _" **S** uch an honor it is to make your acquaintance once again, Batman." _He greeted with a bow. _" **A** nd an extended greeting to you as well, Nightwing."_

Batman reached for his utility belt, but was immediately halted from trying anything with a single hand raised by the menace before him.

" _ **C** alm yourself, Batman. I'm not here to pick a fight." _He said, " _ **L** ike I told you before; I am only an audience in all of this."_

 **"Hardly. Now, give me one good reason why I shouldn't lock you away for the lives you took in** **Blüdhaven** **."  
**

" **A** _h, that_. _**T** hat was simply a means to an end for me._" He said nonchalantly. " _ **T** hey stood in the way of my plans, so I made sure they pay for their snooping. **S** imple rules but they just don't listen."_ His tone grew more sporadic then before. " _ **N** o, they want us to abide by their rules and regulations, when it's been proven to be wrong time and time again! **S** o why continue...? **I** find it so much easier to cut out the middle man...figuratively and literally."_

Batman kept silent through out. All he could hear was Nightwing using his escrima sticks to break through the glass, but it was neigh impenetrable. He was forced to watch from the sidelines, while Batman take on Prometheus by himself if the situation called for it. He eyed his past partner with a side glance, before turning back to Prometheus, who immediately noticed the Dark Knight's action.

" _ **L** ike it?_" Prometheus asked, " _ **M** ade of the hardest polycarbonate known to man. ****N**** othing in that utility belt of yours will be able to even make a dent in it. **I** t was tiresome to make, and even more of a nuisance to put in place just for the two of you, but it was worth it to have Croc be a part of._"

 **"So _you're_ the reason Croc went back to the old plant. You told him to run this way so that we'd fall into your trap. Why do all of this? What's your goal?"**

Prometheus gave a low chuckle. " _ **W** ouldn't you like to know. **H** owever, my reasons for arriving here are not for you at the moment... **I** came for **him**._"

The mysterious knight pointed right past Batman, and towards his ex-partner from behind the glass. He looked just as puzzled as Batman.

"Me? Why me?" Nightwing questioned.

" _ **W** hy not? **A** fter all, this is the moment you've longed for, is it not?_" Prometheus said. " _ **S** urely I don't need to spell it out for you..."_

"I don't know what you're—"

" _ **Revenge.**_ " He said with a seething tone through gritted teeth. " _ **Y** ou want **Revenge**!_"

Nightwing was baffled by his words—Not because of him saying them, but because this mysterious new villain had been able to practically read Nightwing's mind and dig deep into the root of why he _really_ wanted to go after Killer Croc. He eyed Batman for a second; they're eyes met, before he turned back towards Prometheus nervously.

" ** _A_** _aah, it appears I've hit the nail on the head._ " Prometheus provoked as he slowly strolled towards them. " ** _Y_** _ou've come here not to arrest Killer Croc...but to kill him."_

"No! T-That's not why I'm here!" Nightwing protested.

" ** _T_** _hen what other reason could there be? **J** ustice?_" He let out an audible chuckle that could echo through the walls. " ** _D_** _on't make me laugh. **I** know why you're really here. **Y** ou're looking to settle the score for what happened to you so many years ago. **O** h, yes, I know who you were many years ago... **R** obin."_

 **"That's enough!"**

Batman took off running towards Prometheus. He stopped his small walk as Batman was only a small distance from him now. However, the Dark Knight was stopped by another glass wall falling right in front of him; only a few steps away from where the villain stood. Batman, out of anger, punched the glass. he began to wonder just how many glass walls had he set up in this one sewer?

He looked back at Nightwing, and saw a perplexed expression written all over his face. This was the look of desperation that Batman had seen on him before, and it always led to bad choices in the past.

" ** _A_** _dmit it, Nightwing; you were frightened."_ Prometheus influenced. " ** _T_** _hat monstrous crocodile of a man had cornered you in this same dark cave, with its fangs inches away from your face. **W** as his breath brimming with the stench of his victim's flesh? **D** id his claws sink deep into that little neck of yours? **O** h please tell me you at least didn't wet yourself."_

"Shut up!" Nightwing yelled, slamming his fist into the glass.

 **"Nightwing! Don't let him provoke you!"**

" ** _W_** _hat's to provoke? **T** his is what's been in his mind since I sent Croc on his way. **I** 'm just doing him the favor of putting it out there."_ He looked back towards the conflicted Nightwing who was beginning to have doubts of his own.

" ** _N_** _ow, if both will excuse me; I've got more important things to take care of elsewhere. **B** ut here are your options, Nightwing; you could try and help Batman in his current situation to escape, or you could continue on, and fulfill your vengeance on Killer Croc for the humiliation he caused you? **T** he choice...is yours."_

With those last words, the mysterious knight had suddenly vanished within a billow of smoke similar to Batman. Naturally once the smoke cleared, he was gone from sight. Batman turned back towards his old partner to see his head was cast down, while he seemed to want to avoid the Dark Knight's gaze. That was all Batman needed to see what he was thinking of. He slowly approached the glass that stood between them to speak to him face-to-face.

 **"Dick..."**

He said nothing at first. Instead, Nightwing could only sigh to himself; he had nothing else to hide anymore. There was no point in trying to deny the truth that was burning in him this whole time. He only wished that Batman didn't have to hear it, but somehow Nightwing knew his old boss was aware of it from the very beginning. It was just like how it was with that madman professor Pyg, back when he wanted to preform his sick experiments on his parent's corpses. He remembered feeling nothing but cold vengeance while bludgeoning his face in. Now, Nightwing had the chance to inflict the same type of vengeance on Croc for what he did. Like Prometheus said; he had already made his choice.

"Bruce...I'm Sorry." Nightwing said. "I just...I _have_ to do this."

 **"No, you don't. All this will prove is that Prometheus was right."**

"He _is_ right." Nightwing said firmly. "All those years...all I thought about was how I had been put into a corner by that...that animal...I was alone, frightened, and desperate...you weren't there, so I had to do what came to me...the gun was in my hand and I...I have nightmares of that night, y'know...still do sometimes...they plague me every time I hear about another cannibalism victim washing up from the sewers...there's nothing I want more then to put an end to him, but I _don't_ wanna kill him...I wanna take him down myself."

 **"That's recklessness, Dick—stemmed from the words of a murderer in a mask."**

"Yeah, and how long before _we_ end up like him, huh?" Nightwing exclaimed. "How long before we resort to using any means to stop crime? To save people from that animal?-!"

 **"Dick, listen to me; Revenge doesn't help anyone. I know what you're going through. When my parents were killed, all that I could think of was revenge. I wanted nothing more but to go out and find the bastard that did it..."**

Nightwing looked Batman right in the eyes; "Then why didn't you?"

 **"Because if I did, I'd be making the same mistake as you're about to. If you go after Croc, you're putting your life at risk. You know that, don't you?"**

Nightwing had already considered the consequences of what his actions brought. He had prepared for this day for a long time, and was ready to go down fighting if he needed to. But that didn't matter to him at the moment. What really drove him onward was the desire to end his nightmares once and for all...or die trying. He turned his gaze from the Dark Knight and looked forward towards the long stretch of a path that would lead to Croc.

"I know...That's what you always taught me."

 **"No...I taught you that it's not the suit, but the man _inside_ the suit that could move mountains."**

He gave one last look over his shoulders. "...and I won't fail that lesson again."

With those words left, Nightwing ran off into the darkness of the sewers, leaving Batman to watch him run headlong towards his own demise with his pride, arrogance, and his guilt weighing him down with each step.

As admirable as it was, Batman could not abide by Dick's dicision. He knew how crippling it was in seeing logic when revenge was on the brain, but Dick has misplaced it as righting an old wrong. It wouldn't be long before Batman had to hear the young man's cries of agony, and vision him being ripped apart and eaten alive. That was the last the Dark Knight could stomach. He couldn't let his ex-partner fight Killer Croc the way he carried on. The Dark Knight needed to put an end to this. But first he needed to find a way out of the glass prison he stood in. With both sides inescapable between unbreakable glass, the odds were stacked against him.

He knocked on the glass and examined it thoroughly. To his relief, he found the glass was not as impenetrable as Prometheus had them think. He had begun to see the tiniest of cracks from Nightwing's last punch that made the smallest crack in it. It was just enough for Batman to use to get out.

Then, almost just in time, his communicator went off with the news he was waiting to hear.

 **"Right on time Lucius, as always."**

 _(Lucius) "Now Mr. Wayne, excellent timing is one of my many repertoires. It's just been dropped right above your location via the Batwing. It should be arriving in 3...2...1."_

Almost on queue, something had blasted through the curved ceiling, and into the murky waters. At the very least, Batman now had another way he could travel out of there if he couldn't break the glass. In front of him was a large metallic pod with a single fingerprint access key. It radiated a dim light that illuminated the sewers and made the rats scurry away.

Batman approached the pod and placed his hand onto the access key. Once the scan was complete, the pod had slowly opened with smoke slipping from its latches. Once opened, Batman saw just what he needed to take down Croc.

 **"Impressive. Thanks, Lucius."**

 _(Lucius) "You want to thank me, Mr. Wayne? Just try not to get thrown through any tall buildings. It's still a prototype, after all."_

* * *

 _MEANWHILE_

* * *

Nightwing's feet splashed through the shallow watery pathway. He had taken a turn towards the right and was now only a few steps away from reaching the end of the sewers. He had no doubt that Batman would've been able to find his way out soon. Luckily that would take time some time for him to accomplish. For now, Nightwing had the chance to do what needed to be done. At least he didn't have to deal with—

 _(Oracle)"SO...when I asked you 'Hey Dick, wanna pop some popcorn tonight and watch a movie' and you said 'naw, I got a call from Bruce to help him' THIS was what you meant?"_

Nightwing stopped in his tracks at the voice behind his earphone. He braced himself for inevitable scolding he was about to receive. "Heh heh...s-so you heard all that, huh?"

Oracle sighed.

 _(Oracle) "Look, Dick...I'm don't want to tell you what to do and what not to do, but...don't think this is a bad idea to take on Croc alone?"_

"I've made up my mind, Babs. This is what I gotta do." Nightwing said as he continued walking.

 _(Oracle) "Ugh, could you just drop the macho, tough guy act and let Bruce help you?"_

"Yeah, I figured you wouldn't get it..."

 _(Oracle) "You think I don't know what it feels like to want revenge? I feel it everyday I wake up in the morning and realize I can't just get up out of bed anymore! I feel it when I have to take a shower and see that bullet wound in my waist...! I KNOW revenge, Dick."_

Nightwing felt awful for having to make the one he loved remember such a traumatic experience again. He had always done his best to try and avoid the topic, despite her saying it didn't bother her anymore. Even so, he wanted to keep her mind away from that demented bastard of a clown...and now here he was making use it as a point.

"Sorry..." He said wholeheartedly.

(Oracle)"It's okay...but Dick, what happened in the past shouldn't dictate your actions now."

"I know...and yet, I'm not like you and Bruce...I can't let it go."

Another sigh escaped from Oracle's lips.

 _(Oracle)"Fine, do what you need to. By the way, I still never knew what had happened to make you decide to up and leave Bruce anyway. When I asked Bruce, or Alfred, they always said it had to do with Killer Croc, but that's it. They wouldn't say anymore, and neither will you."_

Nightwing said nothing for a moment. He only held his left arm tightly with a troubled look on his face. "You really wanna know...? Alright, but I'm gonna make it brief..."

* * *

 _ **12 YEARS AGO**_

* * *

Running for his dear life, the Boy Wonder could feel his legs throbbing with each stride he took in the murky waters of the sewer. Meanwhile, the heavy stomps of the crocodile man were quickly approaching him like thunder. Robin could barely keep himself going on any further, but the reminder of death quickly creeping up behind him, accompanied with that snarling growl, gave his spirit that extra desperate drive he needed.

Thoughts were running through his head that all equaled his own demise being imminent if Batman didn't come in time. What would that monster do to him? Eat him? Rip him to pieces? Chew the skin off his bones? It was all too much for a 14-year-old boy to take. He became hysterical; screaming at the top of his lungs and running more frantically as his screams echoed through the sewers.

He had no other choice. In a brief moment of illogical thinking, he reached for the back of his utility belt and grabbed the gun he had with him.

Robin forced himself to look over his shoulder to see the giant crocodile man was a good enough distance away from him to use the gun. He admitted to not being a very good shot and would probably miss anything vital, but he didn't care. Anything to slow it down.

Robin stopped running, and turned around as quick as possible with gun in hand to finally put down the beast. In those brief seconds it took to fire the gun, and the crocodile man inching close towards him...

...he froze.

This resulted in the monster's giant claws grabbing the scrawny young boy by his waist and throwing him right into the concrete walls with a harsh slam. Robin gasped in pain as the wind was almost completely knocked out of him. He quickly fell on his hands and knees in the dirty water.

He coughed and hacked for the air that was once again denied to him, while the monster grabbed him by the neck and pinned him to the wall.

Robin struggled to break free, but was forced to stare into the sharp, gritted teeth and piercing yellow eyes of a ruthless creature. Robin breathed hard; he could smell the toxic stench of blood on its breath as it snarled ever so closer to his face. Its grip became tighter and its hungry fangs grew closer.

Robin could not scream nor could he even fight against the beast any further. He stared into his piercing red eyes and was overwhelmed with irrational fear. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his crotch grew wet with urine slowly falling down his trembling legs. He could see his life flash before his eyes...

He imagined his parents...he imagined the day everything changed...the day they were taken from him...he remembered the day Bruce saved him...but looking back at it now, was he really saved? Was _this_ what he was bound to face in the pursuit of fighting crime? How could he have thought all of this was just a game?

Now he saw first hand what a dangerous life like this breeds...Now he knew death.

Suddenly, Robin had been saved a grizzly death at the hands of Batman, who appeared from behind the giant and in his hands were a pair of strange brass knuckle-like items that were electrically charged. He slammed his fist into the crocodile monster's temples, and a powerful surge of electricity had coursed through the monster's skull. He howled a loud roar of agony before quickly releasing Robin from his clutches, and slowly dropping to its knees.

Robin frantically crawled away from the crocodile beast before it had a chance to get him. He didn't even bother to look back at the origin of all that howling to get satisfaction from seeing it in pain. He only wanted to get as far away from that thing as possible.

Once he felt far enough, Robin turned to see the giant crocodile man was finally brought down by the Dark Knight. There, it laid in the murky waters with half of its massive body still submerged from the water. Its vicious eyes were now closed and he no longer had snarling teeth to try and eat them with.

Still shaken up by it all, Robin slowly looked up at Batman, who breathed harshly, but still stood gallantly over the downed crocodile man. He held his rib tightly and gave an agonizing hiss every now and then.

 **"Robin...Are...are you okay?"**

Robin could barely form a sentence. He was still too shaken up by the ordeal. His heart had beat harder and faster then he had ever experienced before. He breathed hard through his dry lips the more he stared at the monster.

It terrified him, even as it slept. He didn't want to see it anymore. He didn't want to fight it. He wanted nothing more then to make sure it never got up again.

His impulse took over his better judgement and sense of justice that Batman had always taught him to hold. All of it lost in the paranoia of having to face such terror again.

He grabbed the gun out of the water and immediately pointed it at the downed beast.

 **"Robin! Wait!"**

Robin didn't listen. His hands shook in a feeble attempt to try and pull the trigger. With gritted, chattering teeth and tears streaming down his eyes. He took harsh breaths while trying to steady his hands to end it.

 **"Robin...please, put the gun down..."**

No. He didn't want to do it. He didn't ever want to part with the gun. The gun was his only ally now. The gun was his protector. The gun will save him from this monster.

 **"I understand you're frightened. I know what that feels like...but you can't let that fear consume you to do something you'll regret..."**

Regret? What possible regret could he feel for putting down a monster who almost killed him? This was justice. This was what he was trained to do.

 **"If you pull that trigger, you'll be no better then the criminals out there who think that a gun can fix all their problems. You'll be no better then the crooked cops who decide to use the badge and their gun as a pass to murder innocence in the streets...We have to be better...so please Robin...Dick...drop the gun..."**

He couldn't. He just...couldn't.

 **"Please...think of your parents...Picture them in your mind. Picture their smiling faces...They wouldn't want you to do this."**

His parents. His mother and father...he remembered them. He remembered what his parents taught him. They taught him to never act out in brashness, or vengeance...to always be the best he could be...so what was this? Was this really the best he could be?

He finally couldn't take it anymore. He dropped the gun. Then dropped to his knees as he let out all the anxiety, rage, and bitter pain he's had to hold in for so long; all coming to a boil in that one moment. He released it all in his tears. He feel Bruce's tight embrace, and only cried more. He could barely hear Bruce's calming words over his own cries. Despite the situation, it was the first Dick felt a sensation he hadn't felt in so long...hatred.

* * *

 _ **12 YEARS LATER**_

* * *

"...and...that was that." Nightwing finished.

 _(Oracle) "Wow, I...I had no idea that...Dick, I'm sorry..."_

"Don't be...I didn't wanna tell you yet." Nightwing confessed. "Now you know why I wanna do this."

 _(Oracle) "Even so, you're making a dangerous gamble. Batman's fought Croc for years, and knows how to take him down. You've fought some of the toughest_ _Blüdhaven had to offer, but this...You sure going in without him is a good idea?"_

"Well, I won't know till I try, right?" Nightwing said with a cheeky grin.

Oracle once again sighed.

 _(Oracle) "You better make it back for our date tonight."_

"Pop some popcorn for me when I get there, Babs."

Nightwing cut his communications.

He had followed the sewer, and found himself standing at the end of its path; overlooking the inside of the enormous sewer system that connected ever sewer line and sewer plant in Gotham City. It all originated from a large device protruding with sewer lines that connected into the walls behind it. The device itself came with an access keyboard and a screen to inform conditions should there be a problem. It sat on a single platform that was held up by a long, thick tube below it that sunk to the dark pits below. Standing there in the center was none other then the Goliath of a crocodile man.

Nightwing had arrived just in time to see him stomp onto the side of the hulking device and began ripping chunks out of it like a burrowing, wild animal. Nightwing needed a closer look.

He used his grapnel gun and zip-lined himself over to a position where he could get a good look at what Croc was burrowing for. Once there, he saw the grotesque beast rip chunks away at a metal safe. It appeared to have been a high security one due to the metal itself being made from titanium alloy. Whatever he was searching for, he seemed to only become angrier as he clawed away.

Suddenly, without much warning, Croc paused. His rage-filled burrowing ceased as he slowly reached into the claw-ridden safe for something. He held something in his hand and just stared at it for a moment.

Croc said nothing. instead his body began to shiver something fierce. Almost like a sort of calmness before the storm. Nightwing could see him beginning to explode with anger in the form of an echoing roar.

That was Nightwing's cue to go in.

He leaped from the high point, and gracefully landed onto the platform with Killer Croc. He knew the big oaf would noticed him the moment he landed, and in response, he let out a loud growl. He slowly looked over his shoulder towards the boy in black and blue with his piercing eyes.

"LEAVE ME ALONE..." He growled."YOU WERE STUPID TO FOLLOW ME HERE, BOY."

"Naw, I'd say this is just where I need to be." Nightwing said with a threatening tone as he took out his dual escrima sticks. "I don't care what you came here for. I'm gettin' payback for the last time we met."

Killer Croc made an annoyed, watery snarls. He took one more glance at whatever was in his hands, before putting it back into the dark shadows of the ripped apart safe. Croc stood back up and faced Nightwing with the most intense of anger pointed right at the boy in black n' blue.

"SO YOU WANT PAYBACK FOR LAST TIME." Croc growled. "YOU WAS LUCKY THE BAT SAVED YA, OTHERWISE I WOULDA HAD SCRAWNY BIRD FOR DINNER THAT NIGHT. BUT NOW, I GET TO HAVE A FULLY GROWN BIRD ALL TO MYSELF!"

"Bon appetit, big guy." Nightwing challenged.

Killer Croc let out a ferocious roar as he came charging after Nightwing. He leaped off the ground, and rushed into him, but was dodged easily in the nick of time. As his claws ran into the ground, Croc immediately ripped them free and was able to grab Nightwing's leg. With his monstrous strength, Croc whirled the ex-boy wonder over his head, and slammed him right into the ground like a rag doll, before kicking him across the platform.

Nightwing quickly regained his footing and dodged Croc's incoming claws from ripping his face off. He swung one of his sticks at Croc's skull before letting loose a fury of them across his body. It was enough to have the crocodile man putting his arms up to block the attacks, but wasn't enough to keep him down.

Finally fed up with being attacked, Croc, began swinging those massive arms around, in the hopes of grabbing Nightwing in his clutches. Nightwing effortlessly dodged them all, while delivering blows as well. It was obvious to him that his attacks weren't producing the damage needed to weaken Killer Croc. It was as if he were hitting a wall. Finally, Croc had grabbed the young man's arm, and threw him across the ground again, only this time, it was smack dab into a brick wall.

Despite the pain he felt, Nightwing slowly rose back up to his feet with sticks in hand.

"THAT TICKLED." Killer Croc insulted. "YOU JUST AS WEAK AS YOU WAS WHEN YOU WERE A BRAT! YOU SHOULDN'T'VE LEFT THE NEST!"

In a blind moment of anger, Nightwing went running at Croc once more. He used his own pair of Batarangs and threw them straight at Croc as a distraction. The batarangs were easily caught in Croc's arms, but were practically ignored once he saw Nightwing was coming at him again. Similar to last time, Nightwing swung his escrima sticks with fury, but with little to no success. Croc ended Nightwing's attacks with two clasped fist slammed into Nightwing's gut. The force behind it had almost broke his ribs and forced him to fall to a knee.

"YOU OUTTA YO LEAGUE, BOY..." Croc mocked.

In a fit of rage, Nightwing gave one last swing with his sticks. However, they were easily grabbed and snapped in two by Croc's hands.

"...YOU WERE ALWAYS OUTTA YO LEAGUE!"

He then grabbed Nightwing by the head and threw him into the air, before sending a fist right into the young man's stomach. Nightwing could feel his ribs break with the force of an angry gorilla tunneling through him. He was sent flying right into the computer system with a loud crash.

Nightwing's entire body felt broken. He had learned to take pain and use it to his advantage, but this was a little more then what he was use to. He'd dealt with thugs, mob bosses, and even brutes with machine guns. He's taken out an entire gang hideout, while he had a cold. Nightwing was a force to be reckoned with...yet _this_ was where he would fail; against the ghosts of his past.

The scenario quickly reminded him of that night so many years ago. The vivid emotions he felt that day were immediately being brought back into the surface of his mind. He didn't want to feel that way again. He trained on his own to make sure he wouldn't have to see himself cower again. He wasn't going to stand for it. His pride wouldn't let him.

He struggled to find the strength to pick himself up again, but didn't have the energy to move away from the slowly approaching Killer Croc as his heavy stomps made the entire platform shake. The creature had lifted the young man by his neck and brought him in close; close enough to smell his rotting breath.

"WELL LOOK WHERE WE AT AGAIN." Croc growled as his snarling teeth grew closer to Nightwing's face. "GUESS I GET TO EAT'CHA AFTER ALL."

His large jaw unhinged. His sharp teeth opened like a true crocodile's mouth would. The breath was almost gagging, but the sight was what almost made him sick. The teeth grew closer, and closer to his face. He closed his eyes tightly and prepared for the worst.

 **"Croc! Let him go!"**

Killer Croc held off on chewing the bird boy's face off to turn to the origin of that loud call. He looked up at the entrance to the deep cave along with Nightwing, to see the sight of a massive body standing before the entrance and leaping away towards them. It sprung its wings out and slowly glided right onto the platform.

When the hulking figure finally stood, it revealed to be Batman; now wearing a powered, exoskeletal armor over his original Batsuit. It also came with a larger, darker-gold utility belt made of a magnetic titanium alloy that allowed it to stay secure on his waist, and another strap going across his chest. The suit's hands wore heavier, metal gauntlets with three-bladed fins on the outer rim of the forearms, his cape was a darker grey with thicker material, and finally, his cowl matched the rest of his armor; a grey helmet donning the similar pointed ears, chin protector, glowing light blue eyes.

"Whoa...never saw _that_ one before...!" Nightwing grunted.

 **" Let him go, Croc. I won't tell you a second time."**

"HA! THAT S'POSE TO SCARE ME OR SOMETHIN'?" Croc growled humorously. He got off of Nightwing and focused his attention on the Bat. "YOU 'BOUT AS SCARY AS AN OVER-SIZED TUNA CAN. ALL I GOTTA DO IS JUST PEEL YA OUTTA IT."

 **"Try it."**

Batman took to his heels, and ran at top speed towards Killer Croc. Even in the full-body armor, it appeared Batman was still able enough to move quickly. Croc swung a massive hay maker, but was quickly blocked by Batman's forearm. He was given no time to strike again as Batman punched Croc in the gut, and then swinging across his jaw. Croc tried to fight, but every strike from him was blocked, and another metallic punch was thrown into him. When he blocked his face, Batman punched his torso. When he blocked his torso, Batman kicked his lower leg. There was no way to protect his massive body with so many openings for Batman to expose. Croc could barely take each harsh blow the Bat delivered.

Nightwing watched in amazement at how deep his punches went into the Crocodile man's body. It was clear Batman, as always, was prepared for any and every situation before hand. He hated it with a passion. It was as if anything he did would continue to be a small flicker in the looming bat's shadow. This was what he wanted to avoid, and yet here he was; once again forced to sit back and watch Batman take care of business like back then. He hated this as a Robin, and absolutely loathes it now.

"Naw...not this time..." Nightwing muttered.

Nightwing used the remaining strength he had in him to rise up to his aching feet. He took deep breaths, while watching the spectacle Batman was making out of an enraged Killer Croc by dodging all his flailing arms, and get a few licks in here and there. As impressive as it was, Nightwing knew it was nothing but the armor doing most of the damage.

Batman had just pushed Killer Croc back with a final hue punch to his scaly solerplex.

"AUGH! YOU...!" Croc growled.

"Hey buddy!"

Croc turned around to see an approaching Nightwing running at him with his escrima sticks in hand. "In case you forgot, you're fighting two!"

Croc swung his massive arms, but Nightwing simply dodged down and hit Croc in the abdomon. That was only the sting that was followed by harder punch from Batman, bashing right into his chest. Croc was dazed and almost thrown off his balance by the sharp pain from his abs, and his chest, but was able to regain his composure despite his growls of pain.

 **"Catch."**

Batman reached for the back of his waist, and tossed something at Nightwing. He caught them and marveled at a new pair of escrima sticks made of metal, and a hue of black and blue. Both had rounded pommels on both sides that almost looked like that of a swords'.

"Aw, ya shouldn't have." Nightwing quipped.

 **"You never did get an upgrade."**

Both of them once again focused their attention towards Killer Croc.

 **"Now! Flying G. number 1!"**

"Got it!"

Batman ran after Croc first. He blocked the first punch, and gave Croc a punch to the gut that made Croc fall to a knee. Batman used that knee to jump off of, while delivering a hard kick to his chin. The kick was hard enough to have Croc back onto his feet and have Batman do a backflip into the air, despite the heavy armor. However he was able to grab Nightwing's hand and throw him right into Croc like an acrobatic show at a circus. Nightwing had double kicked him in the chest and pushed off of the crocodile man in order to roll himself back on his feet.

The old dynamic duo ran at the giant crocodile man as Croc acted instinctively by swinging his massive arm in a wild haymaker. Nightwing ducked out of its way, and leaped up with his electrically charged escrima in an uppercut to Killer Croc's chin. Batman followed the combo with an armored fist to his stomach, and Nightwing to finish it using a swift kick to the face.

He was thrown back a bit, leaving him open to be stabbed in the shoulders with their grapnel guns. The last thing Killer Croc saw was the blur of a giant mass of metal, and black and blue flying at right at him. What followed was the harsh blow of pain sent by a fist and a stick slamming him in the chin. They easily flipped over Croc's head to land on the ground behind him, and yank the giant of a crocodile man onto the ground. His giant body landed with a staggering tremor to the platform. There was the looming threat in the form of metal creaking all around. Anymore pressure, and the entire platform would come crashing down into the pit below.

Killer Croc groaned in pain, but growled with a watery snarl as Batman planted his big metal foot onto his chest.

 **"It's over, Croc. Now talk; why'd you come back to the Bannon Industrial plant?"**

"UAGH...! WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO KNOW..." Croc challenged. A big mistake judging by his harsh groans, as Batman pressed his foot harder onto Croc's chest.

 **"It's your choice, Croc; talk now, or behind steel bars with a muzzle on your face."**

"NONE A YO BUSINESS!" Croc roared.

Nightwing could see this was going nowhere fast, and decided to peak his curiousity by seeing just what Croc had in his arms that made him let out that loud cry.

 **"Did Prometheus send you?"**

"DON'T SAY THAT BASTARD'S NAME!-!" Croc yelled with a thunderous voice. "I'LL KILL HIM! I'LL RIP HIS GODDAMN ARMS OFF FOR WHAT HE DID!-!"

 **"What do you mean?"**

"Batman...look."

The Dark Knight turned his attention to Nightwing, who stood up to face him. His eyes went straight to what was cradled in his old partner's arms. Batman was shocked to see what it was...

...the red-stained remains of an old dog.

Its own blood had covered most of its light brown fur, while one of its ears had been forcefully ripped off. He could see a huge gash had been slit down its back and spread open to reveal its spine. The sight was so grotesque that some of its own intestine was dangling from Nightwing's arms. Batman could guess just how bad the smell must've been for him. It's face had been one permanently stuck in a look of wide mouthed, bug eyed horror. The creature was brutally tortured until its bitter end.

Batman didn't need to make an assumption as to who killed it; the dog was far too in tact for it to have been murdered by someone like Killer Croc. This murder was by the hands of a human; a sick one at that.

Batman turned his attention back to Croc.

 **"Where is he, Croc? Where is Prometheus?"**

"GRAUGH...! FUCK OFF, BATMAN...! HE'S MINE...!" Croc yelled ferociously. "HIM AND THAT...THAT CLOWN...!"

Suddenly, everything changed. The rule mundane of his seemingly tricky investigation for Prometheus had taken a turn towards an absolute top priority with the inclusion of one of Gotham's most dangerous criminals. Now the situation had become not just a matter of time for him to solve, but for the rest of Gotham citizens very lives as well. Batman wasted no time, nor spare anymore sincerity to the Crocodile man's already battered body, and took for a more brutal approch. The Dark Knight took his foot off of Killer Croc's chest, and wrapped his metal grasp around his thick neck.

 **"Croc, tell me where they are! _NOW!_ "**

Croc, once again didn't budge. All he did was snarl at Batman with its fangs bared. The Dark Knight sighed and cooled himself down a bit in order to speak to him.

 **Listen, Waylen...I know you're not as dangerous as people think you are. You were once a good man, but the world treated you like a monster. Meanwhile you just wanted to be alone...I can understand that."**

He gave Croc a moment to think about his words; he could see Croc's anger start to lesson on that scaly face of his.

 **"Which is why I'll make a deal with you** **—** **a chance to leave Gotham and go where no one will ever bother you again. However, the condition is that you keep a low profile** **—one that doesn't involve cannibalism. It's either that, o** **r I throw you back into Arkham Asylum for the rest of your life. All this hinges on _you_ giving me answers."**

Croc weighed his options for a moment. He could finally be alone like he always wanted; so long as he kept himself off of Batman's radar. He couldn't bare to imagine another agonizing moment in that dreaded Arkham Asylum again. Croc was a being of superstition—both in the supernatural and otherworldly—due to coming from a family in the swamps of Louisiana. If there was one place that felt submerged from the deepest orifice of Hell with an ambiguity of pure evil, it was Arkham Asylum. Croc made it his mission to never _ever_ be sent to that hellhole ever again. Besides, he had already lost something precious to him...he wanted nothing more then to be alone.

He growled loudly, before he spoke; "THE MASKED BASTARD SAID THEY JUS' NEEDED SOME CHEMICALS FROM THAT OLD COMPANY..."

 **"What chemicals?"**

"I DUNNO! HE JUST WANTED SOME RANDOM STUFF...! I GAVE 'EM TO 'EM, N THE CLOWN SAID MY DOG WOULD BE SITTIN' IN A SAFE UNDERGROUND. THE CLOWN TOLD ME IF I'D EVER HEARD A SWORTERER'S CAT OR SOMETHIN'..."

 **"Schrodinger's cat. So _that_ was his joke. Any idea where they are now?"**

"GONE...BOTH OF 'EM...I DUNNO WHERE...! HE WANTED ME TO RUN DOWN THIS WAY TO BLOCK YOU BOTH AND GET MY DOG...BUT WHEN I GOT TO THE SAFE...ALL I SAW WAS...THAT...!"

Croc pointed at the dead kitten, not having the nerve to even look at it without shedding a steam of tears from its eyes. "H-HE'S...HE'S GONE...JUST...GONE..."

Batman had heard enough. He slowly released Croc and stood back up. He watched Killer Croc slowly rise to his knees, and turned towards Nightwing; still cradling the dead dog in his arms with a look of sadness in his eyes towards it. He noticed Croc's gaze and saw something in them that he had never seen before from the monster. It was then that Nightwing realized that the roar Croc let out when he first arrived was not the roar of a monster...but the outcry of a defeated man who had lost something so fragile to his heart. Dick didn't feel the victory of defeating the monster of his past, but instead, defeated a man in mourning of something he treasured dearly.

Without hesitation, Nightwing walked over to the groveling Croc, and took a knee with him to give him the remains of the dog. Croc held it close to him with hitched breath and low, saddened growls.

Batman removed the helmet to reveal his usual black cowl. He wanted to get one last look at the once feared, and terrorizing Killer Croc. If nothing else, to confirm to himself that he was just as human as anyone else.

 **"Let's go, Nightwing..."**

Nightwing nodded and followed Batman towards the entrance to the cave. Batman shot a grapnel line towards the gaping hole he arrived from and shot himself upwards towards it. Before Nightwing could do the same, he took one last look towards the sounds of sobbing, mixed with a growl that could break a sympathetic person's heart in two.

He watched this creature of a man hold that dog close to his chest, and grieve with visible tears streaming down its scaly cheeks. Nightwing couldn't blame him for not holding it in—it was such a horrifying sight. Seeing gore and blood wasn't something that particularly bothered Nightwing, however, he could not stand to see an animal be subjected to whatever that dog went through. He thought; What kind of sick demented bastard would do _that_ to an innocent dog? But then the answer came to him in the form of echoing laughter in his mind. That scum didn't deserve to even breath the smog of Gotham's air.

However, he could only watch Killer Croc's breakdown into tears. The over-whelming fear he felt so long ago felt unwarranted. All the years Dick had trained himself to one day fight this crocodile man again, seemed in vain once he saw a side of him that he never knew existed. It made Dick's own thrive for vengeance feel like a petty temper tantrum compared to Croc's pain. He began to feel regret for allowing himself to let Prometheus's words get the better of him. He was just fortunate to have realized it before he rushed right into the fight.

Nightwing grappled his way up as well, and joined Batman in the sewer line that they came from. He couldn't even look the Dark Knight in the eyes for how foolish he felt for letting his emotions get the better of him.

"Bruce, I...I'm..."

Dick didn't need to say a thing. Bruce understood all too well what he was trying to say, and placed a hand onto his shoulder that made Dick look him in the eyes.

 **"It's okay. I understand."**

Nightwing nodded. "Thank you..." He took one last look over his shoulder. "So, that's it, huh? Croc's gonna leave Gotham for good?"

 **"Not likely, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I hope the poor guy takes it."**

"Same here...and what about _those_ two?"

 **"I'll find them both and put an end to all of this. Neither _him_ or Prometheus will win. I won't let them."**

"Yeah, well you better save some of 'em for me." Nightwing said with his fist hitting his palm. "And you better not give me that ' _ **I work alone**_ ' crap either."

 **"I don't sound like that."**

"Ha! Keep tellin' yourself that, Rorschach..." He joked as he began walking down the way they came.

Batman began walking along side Nightwing as the two went down the sewer together. For a moment, Bruce remembered the feeling of having someone by his side in all this. He missed having Dick's banter and positive attitude to balance out his own negativity. Without it, Bruce feared he'd become too submerged in the Batman persona. But the moment he remembered those old days, he unfortunately remembered when he _had_ a partner...and what happens when he decides to bring them into _his_ world of crime fighting. Bruce knew things wouldn't go back to the way they use to be. It couldn't...and he preferred it that way. However, every so often of Nightwing keeping him company was more then enough for him.

 **"Thank you, Dick."**

"For what?" Nightwing asked.

 **"For being here, is all."**

Batman placed a hand on Nightwing's shoulder with a grateful smile towards his partner.

 **"You really have grown into your own. And for that, I'm proud of you."**

Dick was surprised to hear something like that from Bruce. It wasn't so often that he would give out compliments like that, even while he was still his sidekick. Dick was a little worried the old man had finally lost it. Still, he couldn't hold back a big, goofy grin on his face. Even though he felt he had failed him and left his side in shame, it was nice to know that Bruce still loved him regardless. He felt proud of himself as well; proud that he didn't let his past sink him into the abyss.

"Well, like an old friend once said; It's not the suit, it's the man _inside_ it that can move mountains."


	6. May: This Damn City

About five hours ago, a transmission was sent to all GCPD radios. The dispatch stated of a murder on Dresher street. Two officers arrived on the scene to see a man pointing a gun at a teenage boy, no older then fifteen. There was a shootout that resulted in the young man and one of the officers shot dead, while the shooter drove off by the time more officers arrived at the scene.

Just another night in Gotham City.

However, the newly added captain, Jim Gordon, had been around the block for quite awhile to know that not everything was as it seemed. Especially with what he's seen of Gotham, after only being in the tainted city for a good four months now. His hair was still ginger and his body still young. Even back then, he still sported that same mustache and glasses.

It was late that night. The rumbling from outside warned of another downpour. Jim wished he could be back home with his wife and their two-year-old daughter right now. He hated leaving them alone on nights like this, and hoped they were okay. You never know in Gotham City. You hear the strangest things that happen at night here. Criminals doing more then just petty crimes, murderers making ' _art'_ out of their victims, even thugs and gang leaders are beginning to be more elaborate.

Because of all this, he was forced to sit in his dark office with the only light source coming from a lamp on his desk. He was feeling that headache from when he left home an hour ago slowly build in his skull. Nonetheless, he shuffled through new police files on three new suspects for the recent shootout. One was of the shooter; a mister Mark Fredric. His mugshot was of a deshoveled, forty-five year old man who probably had more then one brush with the law. The second file was of the victim; a young African-American by the name of Brian Rosemen. Poor boy looked no older then a teenager. He could've gone to college and maybe even gotten out of this damn city. A shame the city took him away instead.

And then there was the third file. It wasn't a mugshot, but instead a picture taken by some amateur photographer—a giant bat flying across the night sky.

Jim gave a deep sigh as he sat back in his chair to stare up at the slow moving ceiling fan above. He had begun to grow irritated over these rumors and interferences from this bat creature. He's usually all over the news with his illegal exploits of misguided vigilantism. It wouldn't be long before the media leagued him with the GCPD—as if they were encouraging the Bat's actions. Who ever he was, he had balls; Gordon gave him that. Not many individuals would just put on a costume, go out, and start jumping over rooftops and taking down criminals like some superhero.

No matter the appearance, one thing that couldn't be ignored was that this ' _Bat Man'_ had single-handedly been able to put an end to over thirty drug raids, decreased the crime rate to a startling 60%, and had even put the fear into some of the corrupt cops in the station. But it was only a matter of time before this martyr fantasy of his came to an end. Gordon only hoped it would be behind bars.

A knock was heard at the door. It sounded urgent—hard and rapid knocks on wooden surface.

"Come in." Gordon announced.

The door came swinging open. In entered a frazzled man whose massive body would fit better on a football quarterback line then a police officer in a suit. He was a burly man with a military cut of blond hair and furrowed brown eyes. Judging by his exhausted breaths, and wet suit, Gordon feared his long night was about to become longer.

"Oh, it's just you, Flass..." Gordon said nonchalantly. "You look like you just came out of the rain."

"Jimmy! The hell're you still doin' in here?-!" Flass exclaimed. "Didn't you hear the radio announcements?-!"

"You know I don't like to be disturbed while working." Gordon reminded Flass as he continued shuffling papers on his desk.

Flass stormed up to Gordon's desk and slammed his massive palm onto his desk.

"Forget that! There're bigger things to be worryin' about then some petty shootings! We just got word that some punk and his gang of thugs are planning an assault on the GCPD building tonight! Commissioner Lob just gave Branden and the boys the OK to go out and hunt these bastards down like the garbage they are for an easy 100 mil. "

Branden. Gordon cringed the second he heard the name. Branden was as corrupt as they come. He was ex-military, turned S.W.A.T commander by the current commissioner—Gillian B. Loeb. Branden was not one to spare innocent lives to destroy his enemies. One time, during a hostage situation in an apartment complex, Branden came onto the scene and him and his men single-handedly laid waste to almost every resident in the building, including the gunman. 7 dead, 133 severely injured. When confronted about it, Branden called it a ' _bittersweet victory_ ' and made up that the guy had heavy artillery and was able to shoot seven dead.

If anyone could make a bunch of thugs disappear, it was Branden and his boys. Gordon couldn't sit around to let them do what they wanted, otherwise more people could get involved in their massacre.

Gordon took a deep sigh before he forced himself out of his chair. "Alright, let's get 'em."

"Ha! That's what I'm talkin' about, Jimmy." Flass grinned. "If they think I'm gonna miss out on easy money like that, they got another thing comin'."

Flass went ahead of Gordon and closed the door behind him. Flass wasn't the worst cop in the Gotham, but he was the most intimidating to some of the petty thugs on the streets. He's apparently subdued over 30 drug deals in his carrier. And by _subdue,_ in Gotham terms, that meant helped strengthen, and even sold drugs himself to other corrupt officers. Gordon knew Flass's dirty little secret the moment they met. The strong scent of marijuana was a dead giveaway. Gordon wanted to do something about him, but with Loeb's influence over the entire GCPD, he and Branden were untouchable along with the rest of these criminals in blue.

That was enough personal ranting though. He didn't need to keep Flass waiting since he lost his license from a hit n' run he did a few weeks back. He put on a new black trench coat that his wife bought him for his birthday. He had a feeling he'd end up wearing it for a very long time.

He reached into his desk for his revolver and felt the warm steel in his palm. He hated using the gun almost as much as he hated doing the job. before he came to Gotham, he has only ever shot and injured about 20 people—no casualties. Now...he didn't know if that record was gonna stay so low.

He walked out of his office, and was met with the usual late night ruckus that goes on in the cubicle offices of GCPD; fellow cops talking among one another about the cases they took, some answering people's calls about disturbances going on, and then some laughing loudly with each other. It's a wonder why people treat cops like they're not even human, but then Jim remembered those people are the ones who are _in front_ of the gun.

"Jimmy, come on!" Flass called from the elevator.

Gordon quickly walked through the crowd of people who were all gathered in discussion with each other. he caught wind of them discussing the rumors of the Bat vigilante roaming around at night, and making bets on whose gonna put a bullet in him first. Jim use to be appalled with talk like that from people wearing a badge, but now he's gotten so use to it that it's become second nature to just wave it off.

He joined Flass at the elevator and waited for it to come up with him. The door opened with a small chime, and both walked right in. Once the doors closed behind them, the elevator traveled down to the garage.

"Knowin' Branden and them, they're already out there on the streets, havin' a ball." Flass assumed.

"Or they're still in the weapons lock, deciding which gun would be big enough..." Gordon muttered.

"Ugh, don't remind me..." Flass sighed. "What I wouldn't give to be able to hold me one a' those babies just once...Shoulda signed up to be a S.W.A.T member instead."

"The size of the gun doesn't matter. What matters is how well an officer can protect the weak from the scum of this city." Gordon said while taking his favorite pipe from his coat pocket.

"Yeah, yeah, but come on. You can't honestly tell me you ain't even a _lil_ jealous." Flass egged on. "I mean, Branden can go around, totting heavy artillery with him, and make up his own rules with Loeb watchin' his back. If he wants to shoot up a mall, all he's gotta do is say there was a bunch of terrorist threats sent in, and he was taking down the suspects responsible. Then to make sure no one else flaps their gums, he could just pay 'em off or shut 'em up for good. That kinda power is just too good to pass up."

"You say that as if you'd do such a thing yourself." Gordon suspected while lighting his pipe.

"Naw, not me." Flass answered halfheartedly. "After all, what would I get out of a bunch of dead folks with no criminal records?"

"A life's sentence."

"No, a bunch of cryin' family members blamin' me for it all." Flass said bitterly. "I do my job, and I get flack for it. What kinda shit is that? I bet if I got the chance to kill that Bat freak out there, I'd be called a hero. Hell, maybe Sarah, up at the comms, would finally stop playin' around and let me hear her private screams behind bedroom doors, eh?"

Gordon rolled his eyes. Same ol' Flass.

The elevator stopped descending and the doors opened to the car garage. It had only taken a moment for them to fully contemplate what they were seeing right before their very eyes.

Rather then see the grey, concrete parking lot with multiple cars parked in their respective spaces, the two officers didn't anticipate the grueling sight of multiple S.W.A.T men laying across the ground—all laid about with their blood painting the walls and the police cars. Not a single one was sparred from the vicious massacre that had taken place. Some were even stripped down to their birthday suits in mutilation of things most men hold dear, while others were separated from their limbs and heads. It was something out of a snuff, horror film that almost made the two police officers gag.

"Jesus Christ...!" Jim gasped while his pipe dropped from his lips.

"T-Those are...! Those are Branden's boys...!" Flass uttered in horror.

Flass began to loose his lunch, while Gordon ran out of the elevator to check on the bodies for any cause of deaths. The stench of blood almost made his stomach turn, it was so strong. If it wasn't for his experience as a cop in Chicago, he would be vomiting all over himself like Flass was. He kept his composure strong as he closely examined the bodies—the one that stood out the most was crucified onto the wall in front of a painted on 'A'.

Gordon ran towards the body and examined it more thoroughly—The poor bastard turned out to be Branden himself. His face was beaten to a bloody pulp, while his arms were twisted to where his elbows poked outward.

"Damnit Branden..." Gordon said mournfully. "I wanted you to be brought in by the book...not like this, not like some animal..."

Above him was a message written in blood;

 _ **I F**_ — _ **Y O U R**_ — _ **G O D**_ — _ **W O N ' T**_

 _ **W E**_ — _ **W I L L**_

— _ **A**_

"Anarky." Jim muttered.

"W-Wha...? Who the hell is that...?" Flass groaned, while wiping his mouth of vomit.

"If you'd paid attention in most of our briefings, you'd know." Gordon said, "He's one of those pro-liberal/anti-government type who believed the society, the law, and anything with authority was evil, and filled with conspericy theories. Now he's got some crusade going on where he wants to 'break down the establishment'. We get a bunch of people like him coming into the station with their annoying rants about how corrupt everyone who followed the law was."

Despite their misguided beliefs, Gordon did share the opinion that the police in Gotham have the most corrupt officers in any city. Even so, he still had to uphold the badge and take in anyone for committed crimes. Jim figured that it was Anarchy who was sending his goons to attack the GCPD. Jim didn't expect it to be _this_ bad though. He thought they were just a bunch of kids with too much energy and delusions. Now he knew they meant business. The worst thing about all this was that Branden was the strongest force of the GCPD; despite his dangerous philosophy of justice. Without them, they were in for one hell of a night in this hostile takeover attempt—and the odds were not looking good for Jim.

"Flass, we need to go back up! Warn the rest of—"

Suddenly, the lights went out and the entire garage became pitch black with the exception of the opened elevator light.

Gordon quickly turned towards the elevator and ran twoards it at full speed. However Flass, out of his own cowardice, closed the elevator door the second the lights went off. The last sight of him was his horror-filled expression as the doors quickly closed on Jim.

He was now left alone in the darkness for a second, until the dim emergency red lights from above the elevator turned on. The moment they did, Jim immediately felt a disturbance. Among the dead bodies all around him, he suddenly didn't feel alone.

He turned around to see he was already surrounded. About ten goons had crept from the shadows of the garage and slowly approached the lone officer. They all were dressed in individual clothes made up of jackets and gloves. However one similarity they all shared were smiling white mask that covered their whole face under their hoods. He could hear sinister chuckling coming from them as they brought out their bats and machetes.

Gordon, in a state of panic, pulled out his revolver and pointed it at the goons. Jim hated resorting straight to firearms, but this was an exception in the face of his own demise. He quickly reached for the elevator button, and began pressing it frantically. He already knew it would take a good minute or two before the slow moving elevator could travel down 14 floors before reaching the garage.

Despite his gun aimed at the thugs, none of them hesitated at all. They still approached him with those haunting laughs getting closer and closer to him. It was as if Jim was holding a toy gun. These men...they weren't normal. Jim had a gun in hand, ready to fire and kill one of them if they attacked, yet they just...kept coming closer. Jim had never faced thugs like this. Not a hint of fear at the sight of a gun pointed at them. Plus, even if Jim were to fire rounds, it would only be five of them who would be hit. The rest would have their sadistic pleasure in beating him to a bloody pulp.

Jim's hand began to shake with his finger itching to pull the trigger. He forced his hand with all his strength from making a dumb move that could end it all in a garage parking lot. He was out of options, and had to resort to taking whatever measures he needed to survive.

"D-Don't do it...!" Gordon yelled, "Don't come any closer...! I'll shoot! I'm not bluffing...!"

 **"They know. They just don't care."**

Suddenly, from the shadows emerged a ghostly being made of pure, black mist who swooped right into the frey of the approaching thugs. Before any of them could take notice, one was immediately stolen from the ground and taken into the shadows of the garage; screaming in horror as he did.

The other thugs acted as quickly as they could, but couldn't at all fathom what was happening around them in time to respond to the attacks. One by one, they all fell in one swift notion from the black shadow seemingly skidding across the ground to capture each and every one of them. It all happened so fast, that Jim could barely keep up with what was happening. Each of the thugs were taken into the dark corners of the parking lot garage, being lifted off their feet as if they were nothing. Some tried to flee—hollering as they did, but there was no escape from the vicious black shadow that took them all into the abyss.

Once the yelling had ceased, there was a dead silence that filled the spacious garage. Jim could barely hear the sounds of the groaning thugs from the shadows. They at least weren't dead, but sounded like they were in immense pain.

Jim stood there; mouth agape, and speechless beyond rational thought. But then again, what could be said after witnessing such a display transpire right before his eyes. His hands trembled too much to hold his gun up any longer. He breathed hard and fast in anticipation for what was to come next. Whatever this strange anomaly was, there was no mistaking it was going to come after him next.

Jim's heart skipped the second he saw the towering black figure slowly walk from the dark corner of the garage. Upon closer inspection, it stood 6"4 in a black long cape and pointed ears. Because the red security lights barely did Gordon any favors in sight, he couldn't see what exactly he was dealing with.

It stopped once it was only a few steps away from him. Gordon never believed in things like aura or anything, but he could feel a dark force around him. Jim's first reaction was fear, however, he was always taught to use that fear as a weapon. He took a small breath to relieve himself of his trembling and looked the grim figure in the face, while pointing his gun towards it.

"D-Don't come any closer..." Gordon said with as much authority as he could muster. "I know who you are; Your that guy who dresses up as a bat...Look, thanks for saving my ass back there, but I _will_ take you down if you—"

 **"Captain James Worthington Gordon."**

Hearing his entire name spoken by such a deep, and other-worldly voice put a chill down his spine.

 **"You served a tenure in Chicago. After arresting your fellow officers for his corruption, you were transferred to Gotham city."**

Gordon was baffled by how this creature knew so much about him. "Y-Yeah...most likely they threw me into this festering wound of a city, hoping I'd die in here like a dog."

 **"For now, you need to get somewhere safe. There are more of Anarky's thugs storming the GCPD building as we speak. I'll handle most of them while you get your men to safety."**

"Excuse me? I don't think so." Gordon said harshly. "These animals are gonna murder everyone in here whether we try to escape or not. If they could take out Branden and his entire S.W.A.T team down here, just imagine what he'll—"

 **"It won't come to that."**

The black figure pulled something from the shroud of his long cloak, and presented it to Gordon. Begrudgingly, Jim reached for it, and held in his hand, a strange device that resembled a customized radio. It had nobs on the side, and punch-in buttons. There was even a screen on it.

"The hell is this?" Gordon questioned.

 **"Communicator. In case anything happens, press the button in the center. Backup will be on the way."**

"Humph, as if I'll need to..."

Gordon was once again startled by the loud chiming of the elevator finally arriving. He turned towards the, almost, blinding light from within the elevator with a breath of relief that escaped his mustache-wearing lip.

"'Least the elevator's here." Gordon said as he turned towards the Bat. "So what're you gonna do—"

Gordon stopped talking the moment he looked to see no one was there to listen to him. He looked around frantically for any trace of the Bat, but saw nothing.

Gordon sighed. "I hate this damn city..."

Gordon hurried into the elevator and watched it close on the dark garage. He took a breath of relief as he tried to settle his beating heart. There was just too much going on tonight for Gordon to handle after only being in Gotham for a few months now. There was Anarky's sudden attack on the GCPD, Branden and his men massacred, and now that Bat freak is sneaking around the building saying he wants to get in on the madness tonight. If this was what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life, he'd rather take Blüdhaven.

Jim finally calmed himself down enough to press the button to the fourth floor where the weapon's cash was. If Jim was going to over-power these animals, he would need heavier fire power. He felt the elevator travel upward slowly. While he waited, he immediately reached for his second communicator and made a call out to the microphone receptionist.

"Sarah! Sarah, it's Captain Gordon!" Gordon called.

 _"This is Sarah. What's wrong, Gordon?"_

"You need to make an announcement to the rest of the officers in the building! Branden and his men are dead! The Gang leader known as Anarky have infiltrated GCPD—We are officially at war!"

 _"My god...! A-Alright! I'll convey the message!"_

"Good. Be careful in there. block the door with the heaviest things you have. Don't let anyone else in until I get there, you hear me?-!"

 _Yeah, of course! I'll give the message ou t—MMFHFGH!-!"_

Jim could hear a struggle going on over the voice box and the sounds of Sarah's muffled screams. Tables fell, and the grunts of a man was heard in the background.

"Sarah? Sarah!-!" Gordon yelled.

Suddenly, Jim staggered at the elevator's abrupt halt and the lights flashing off into complete darkness.

"Shit...!" Gordon hissed.

He quickly reached into his coat pocket for one of his carrying flashlight, and pointed the light up towards the closed hatch on the ceiling. He put the flashlight in his teeth and climbed up towards the hatch to push it open. He was immediately hit with the first gust of wind from bustling rain outside the elevator shaft's small pockets towards the outside. It almost took the breath out of Jim, but he still pulled through and forced himself into the dark and narrow passage. The entire shaft was sprayed with rapid-fire rain drops making it dangerous to stand on top of the slippery elevator roof. His coat flapped to the gust from outside and the sprays of rain hit his face.

He looked up the shaft to see the fourth floor to the weapons cash was just above him. He reached up and used all the strength in his arms to pull himself up. The strike of lighting outside startled him only a little, as he struggled to get himself past his torso. It took much of his strength, but he was able to pull his legs onto the ledge and lifted the rest of his body up.

"Phew!" Jim sighed. "How do ya do it every night, bats..."

He took one look at the closed elevator door; it wasn't going to be a cake walk prying it open. Jim took a deep breath before he put his fingers in between the slit of the door. "alright...come on, Jim..."

Gordon put all his strength into it by pushing the doors open. Veins appeared on his neck and his teeth gritted tight. He could see the fruits of his labor though as bits of light piered through the doors. He pushed and pushed with all his might as the light grew brighter. Finally he had opened the door wide enough to slip right through the doors before they closed in on him.

Gordon took a moment to catch his breath and rest his muscles. he hadn't put that much effort into something since that one drug raid in Chicago—carrying one of his own unconscious men out of a burning fire was murder on the shoulder.

"Come on, Jim...no time to rest now...gotta—Oh god!"

Gordon looked in horror to see the entire room filled with guns and heavy artillery was reduced to nothing but scraps and destroyed, black metal littered across the ground. Hell, there was even a fire burning in a metal barrel with a bunch of riffles and AK-47's burning in a hellish flame. Not only that, but there were another set of deceased bodies lying across the ground; blood splattered across the walls.

What got his attention the most was another message written across the wall in blood;

" _ **VULNERABLE**_

 _ **THIS IS WHAT HE FELT**_

 _ **A."**_

"Damnit!" Jim hissed.

Jim had no time to rest as he could hear the door to the weapon's room open. the police captain crouched down to behind one of the wide cases and stayed quiet. He heard foot steps strolling into the room, and looked under the narrow slit of the crate—a total of 3 individuals that were talking among each other—unknown if they had firearms or not.

"Man, can't believe Anarky wanted us to burn all these guns they got in here. What a waste."

"'Ay, don't be questionin' Anarky's methods. He knows what he's doin'. Gettin' rid of the guns makes these pigs as worthless as children. Dat way, we can get to beatin' on 'em with out 'em doin' to us what they do to us."

"Yeah, after what happen to Brian; y'know, gettin' capped by some cop, I'm lookin' to get some revenge. This cop shootin' on defenseless kids is pissin' me off."

"Well, Anarky's gon' fix all dat. He gonna mess 'em up good, and so are we."

"Yeah...so, uh, why are we here again?"

"Ugh, you idiot, we was suppose to get into position, remember? Anyone who comes through that door, gets beat to a pulp."

"Oooh, alright."

"Still, be better we had some guns of our own."

"What? And be no better then these so-called _keepers of the peace_? The point of this raid was to prove we don't need guns to make a difference."

That was all Jim needed to hear as he reached for his revolver in his pocket. he rose up to his feet and aimed his gun right at the thugs.

"Freeze!" Gordon ordered, "On your knees! All of...you?"

Jim was taken back to find he was pointing his gun at a bunch teenagers who were all dressed in red hoodies with the Anarky's "A" on them. They all looked no older then their late teens with some of them holding bats and wooden planks.

"Y-You're all just kids...What the hell do you think you're all doing?-!" Gordon scolded towards the cowering misfits. "Do you realize how many lives were lost because of you and your gang?-!"

"W-We ain't no gang!" Said one of them with black dreads. "We with Anarky! We just tryin' to settle the score!"

"Score?" Gordon questioned.

"Yeah! One of your boys shot and killed our best friend, Brian!" said the other with blond hair. "You and your cop buddies think it's cool to beat up on the little people, n' shoot 'em dead in the streets like they ain't worth nothin'!-?"

"Y'all don't know how scary it is to get a call from ya own friend's mom, cryin' on the phone about how her own son was shot dead like a goddamn animal..." The one with the dreads began to tear up. "...and what's worse...that murderin' bastard is back at work like nothin'. Brian wasn't even a part of the Anarky gang, man! He was just a friend of ours who we kept away from all this shit! And this cop got to just pop a cap in 'em and got nothin' but a slap on the wrist!-? We couldn't let that go! Not _this_ time! So we now gonna fight fire with fire!"

Gordon had a dreadful feeling this was the case; a bunch of teenagers eager to do something about their deceased friend. A valiant effort in itself to go so far for someone, Gordon had to give them that. however their conviction had been twisted into hate and anger thanks to that mentality Anarky had instilled in their minds to create this violent escapade. They were already looking for blood, so trying to convince them would only go so far. Still, it was worth a hell of a lot more to use words rather then bullets.

"Just hold on, alright? I'm not your enemy." Gordon said calmly, "Believe me; I'm only here to put an end to all this before any more people get killed—some of them your own."

"Better to get shot with our heads held high, then in the back." The last one in the baseball cap argued. "We want our voices to be heard!"

"What good is a voice if your _DEAD_?-!" Gordon yelled. "This isn't a game, son! You're right, there are the worst kind of officers in this building, and if it was any of them in my place, you'd all be lying on those backs of yours with the inside of your brains splattered all over that wall!"

The mental image put fear into all three of the teens. One of them even looked behind him towards the wall and imagined his own blood there. It put a chill down his spine as Gordon could see the boy's breath getting faster. They were beginning to see the consequences of what they were doing. Gordon wished he didn't have to put that traumatizing thought into their minds, but he didn't have a choice. They had involved themselves in all this with multiple S.W.A.T men murdered thanks to their anarchistic group. No doubt they'd face possibly 30 to life behind bars for that.

"If you just stop all of this, it will be less harder on you then it already is." Gordon pleaded. "We can help each other. We can stop Anarky together. We can make a difference right here, and now. I've heard your cries, and I promise you, I will bring proper justice, no matter the cost...just please stop this."

Gordon could see his words getting to them, but could tell they still didn't buy it. Who could blame them? Brian Rossmen, the teen who was reported to have been shot by some random gunman, was actually killed by a GCPD officer. There was no way he was going to put his gun down yet, until he was sure they weren't going to act violently. At the very least, he was never going to shoot any of them if they try to attack. He could handle himself in a fight if he needed to.

Slowly the boys looked at each other for answers on what they should do. Should they go on with this, or quit now before things got too bad? What would happen to them if they got caught? They knew jail time was in their future, but...what was worse; Jail time, or death?

All of them agreed in chagrined unison.

"A-Alright...we'll help you." The blond said.

"Anarky's in the main courtroom on the top floor." The dread headed one said, "Says he wants the person who shot Brian to face justice..."

Gordon lowered his gun as he asked; "And who might that be?"

They all looked at each other before the third boy in the cap answered bitterly; "Arnold Flass."

* * *

In another part of the GCPD building, a single individual was held in a dark room with a bright light cast over him. He trembled pathetically in his chair with a sack over his head, and his arms tied to his chair. He struggled to get free, but wasn't even allowed to stand with his ankles tied to his chair.

"Arnold Flass."

His voice being called so suddenly, startled him a bit.

"W-Who the hell said that?-!" Flass demanded frantically. "Show yourself, dammit! I-If you don't get me outta here, I swear I'll get you all for this!"

" _You_ are in no condition to be making threats. Not in your _current_ situation, anyway."

"W-What're you talkin' about?-!" Flass questioned.

"Here; allow me to show you."

Flass' head was yanked to the side as the sac was forced off his face. His eyes were violated by the blinding light from above and even more violated by all the lights being shut on. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he was finally able to get a good look at his surroundings. He was sitting in a large courtroom that was riddled with Anarky's "A" all across the walls in paint. Sitting in the jury box was all of the GCPD officers—tied to their chairs and looking just as fear stricken as he was. Behind him sat twenty of Anarky's men dressed in their red hoods and Anonymous masks.

And there, sitting at the Judge's chair, which was besmirched by that damned "A", was the ringleader of them all; he stood on top of the table with gavel in his gloved hands. He was dressed in a makeshift, Guy Fawkes mask with a black hood cast over his head. Draped across his shoulders was a black cape with that "A" insignia on his bulletproof vest.

"Who the hell're you suppose to be, huh...? Flass said with a humored grin. "You think you're some kind of vigilante? No offense buddy, but we got enough of those in this stinkin' city as is..."

Oh no, no, no, no, no, no..." Anarky said with a waving finger. "I am nothing like that so-called 'Bat Man' who pretends to be this city's guardian protector, yet could _NOT_ even appear in time to _SAVE_ a poor boy from being _MERCILESSLY_ gunned down in cold blood. No, I am someone who believes that _everyone_ deserves to be punished for the wrongs they do. That the crimes committed by individuals should be brought to justice no matter their status. _No one_ is above judgement."

Anarky leaped down to the tied up Flass and slowly strolled towards him.

"Not. Even. You."

Flass was startled when the gavel slammed onto the arm of his chair. Anarky obviously relished the feeling of having power over the brute of a police officer in front of his co-workers. But the fun wasn't over yet, not by a long shot.

Anarky strolled back to his podium while spinning the gavel in his grimy little hands. Flass could just imagine the the scrawny, little bastard's grin behind that mask, insulting him for being bested by a bunch of thugs. Him, a police officer, being beaten and tied up like some damsel? Just the thought put a vein on Flass's temple.

"You better not get comfortable on that high horse, buddy." Flass warned, "'Cause when I get outta here, I'm gonna make you swallow that gavel."

"Save your threats, Arnold Flass." Anarky said as he sat at the judge's bench. "As I said before, you are no longer in any position to be making threats. It's time to finally place judgement upon you." He slammed the gavel down three time to officially start the trial. "First witness to the stand; Commissioner Loeb!"

With a snap of his fingers, Anarky's goons pulled out from behind a closed door behind the bench, a pudgy, fat man in an expensive suit, who was struggling to break free. The sweat was beating down on his balding head as he was forcefully dragged out into the open to sit in the hot seat with his hands cuffed behind his back. Despite the situation he found himself in, Loeb still had it in him to act as tough as he was.

"So you're this Anarky guy I keep hearin' about, huh?" Loeb said, unimpressed. "Ha! I expected better."

"Yeah, yeah. Keep up that tough guy bullshit all you want." Anarky sassed. "See, scum like you, who breed on the unprivileged by justifying your rules of what's right and wrong, based on how much it'll line the money in your wallet, makes me sick." Anarky grabbed his cane that he happened to have on his desk, and poked it right into the Commissioner's fat cheek. "Honestly, this city would be slightly better off without your incessant filth corroding it any more then you already are. What better way to take Gotham back one step at a time, then to smooth out the dirty crevices. So what say you, Loeb? Will you strip Arnold Flass of his badge, gun, and rank as a police officer, or..."

Anarky's sentence was finished by a blade being pressed to the Commissioner's gullet, just waiting for the word to slit the contents of his fat throat all over his lap. Loeb began to feel the pressure building in as his heartbeat increased in his chest.

"Hey, hold on now! You can't do that!" Flass argued, "Havin' me kicked off the force for doin' nothin' to you is bullshit!"

Anarky went silent. He only stared at the angered Flass, almost to say he was speechless. He then rose to his feet, and continued to look down at the officer.

"Doing nothing? Is that what you called what you did tonight?" Anarky then turned towards the rest of the tied up GCPD officers. "Listen up, ladies and gentlemen of the jury! You see, it appears that we have just been presented with an unfathomable lie that has left the judge speechless at how far this filth will go to cover his own ass!" Anarky pointed his gavel at Flass accusingly. "Tell them, Flass! Tell them how you did it! Tell them how you looked the poor boy in the eyes as the bullet coursed through his skull! Bet you felt like a big shot with that gun in your hand, huh?-!"

Flass quickly eyed the jury of police officers as some of them looked towards him in confusion and restlessness. Anymore from the hooded lunatic, and not only will he have him on his ass, but the rest of his own co-workers as well. He was starting to become desperate. His eyes went straight to Commissioner Loeb in a cry for help, but was devastated to discover that even _he_ had no words or help to give him with his neck literally on the line. Flass was alone on this. He had been backed into a corner with no hope to escape.

"Flass, the hell's he talkin' about?-!" One of the officers yelled harshly.

"Yeah, what's he mean? Somethin' about a poor boy getting one in the eye?" a female officer questioned.

Soon the entire jury erupted into clamoring at a frizzled Flass who was outnumbered by not just his own, but even the crowd of Anarky's men also yelling and even throwing trash at Flass from behind. He was being publicly humiliated while being chewed out by his piers. It was enough to drive a sane man to social lunacy.

"I-I got no clue what he's talkin' about!" Flass yelled in a cold sweat building. "He's crazy! He's tryin' to pin somethin' on me, thinkin' I did it!"

The yelling only got louder and louder. Flass could no longer take all of the abuse. He began to feel his mind go numb, trying to find some kind of excuse to drown out all the angry roars that assaulted his ear. He could barely hear himself think let alone talk.

However a saving grace arrived just in time as a loud popping sound echoed through the courtroom that brought it to a dead silence. All eyes were on the lone man, standing at the entrance of the courtroom's double doors. His coat was dirtied with black smog, while his glasses were slightly fogged up. Nonetheless Gordon stood gallantly as he stood there among unprecedented odds.

"J-Jimmy...!" Flass said pathetically.

Gordon said nothing to Flass. He only looked directly at him with such disdain. He walked down the isle and through the barrier, onto the main floor where Flass was held. He looked up at the podium, and locked eyes with the enigma known as Anarky for the first time. Right off the bat, Gordon had a pretty good hunch that he was just another young man who had a lot of anger boiling inside him. If he was going to end this peacefully, he needed to be patient and do this by the book.

"You must be Anarky." Gordon said.

"Well, well, looks like we missed a pig." Anarky said. "So, are you here to try and speak up for the sack of shit sitting there? I must humbly desist your actions, as I—"

Gordon had heard enough of Anarky's mouth and pointed his gun right at him without hesitation. This shut Anarky up the moment he heard the gun cock. Not out of fear persay, but instead, curiosity. Was this cop really prepared to pull the trigger, and therefore, tarnish his own sense of justice?

"I'll deal with you later, boy." Gordon said, "But right now, I got one priority I need to get out of the way first."

Gordon lowered his gun, and proceeded to walk towards the side to snatch himself a chair of his own. Anarky along with everyone else in the courtroom were baffled that this police captain could just stroll into an entire room of enemies, and still somehow seem like he was in control of the situation. There was not a single crack in his stern expression as he dragged his chair into the center of the room where Flass sat, just as confused as the rest.

Gordon placed the chair in front of Flass, and sat in it; leg crossed over the other.

"Arnold Flass." Gordon said, "Where were you tonight, exactly five hours ago?"

Flass' eyes widened, but were quickly furrowed. "The hell are you tryin' to say, Jimmy? Now's not the time for this!"

"I'm just asking a simple question. No need to become hostile if you have nothing to hide." Gordon said calmly as he pulled out a spare pipe from his coat pocket.

"Jim, in case you haven't noticed, our allies have been apprehended, That freak up there is gonna kill us, and I'm tied to a freakin' chair!" Flass yelled, "So yeah; I _AM_ becomin' hostile!"

"You are...but for all the wrong reasons." Jim lite his pipe and breathed the smoke from his lungs to continue. "It's time you stop playing this game, Flass. Confess, and maybe, we can all escape this without anymore people dying."

"Confess?-!" Flass exclaimed, "What do I gotta confess to you for?-!"

"You know damn well what I'm getting at!" Gordon said sternly, "Now I _could_ just leave you here to deal with this on your own, or _you_ can end this right here. If you don't, all the blood that's been spilled will be for nothing!"

"Like I said; I dunno nothin'!" Flass argued, "I'm innocent in all this nonsense! So how about you untie me already, and—"

Gordon rose from his chair and grabbed Flass by his collar pulled him in threateningly as the chair was on its front legs. He looked him in the eyes with a burning stare that was beginning to affect Flass.

"You bastard! You think this is some kind of game?-! Branden and his men are dead, the employees down in the weapon's cash are dead, Sarah is probably dead—all of us are gonna die because of _you_! So talk, you damn son of a bitch! Or so help me, I will hold you responsible for all the lives lost here!"

Flass was speechless. He tried to find some kind of excuse to cover his own ass, but was quickly interrupted by Anarky's chiming in.

"Ah, it appears we have an officer who also believes in actual justice." Anarky applauded. "This is just perfect. So go ahead, Flass; confess...confess...confess...confess..."

Anarky then egged on his own men to start chanting the same as he was. The room began to erupt into that damned word that was swimming in Flass's head. Soon even the very police force began to chant the same word as well. Now the room echoed with that word that made Flass' heart beat in his chest. He began to break out in a cold sweat with tensions risen, and all other options for him to escape this hellish punishment were beginning to dwindle. Once again, he looked towards Loeb, who had no answers to give him. He was alone; surrounded by guilt quickly consuming him. No where to go, no one to turn to. Was this really it for him? Could there really be no other way out of this?

"Do it, Flass...confess." Gordon uttered.

Finally the pressure began to be too much for the man. He was losing whatever strong grip he had on his self-control, and had reached that boiling point.

"AAAUGH!-! Alright, dammit! Alright! I shot that fuckin' brat in the head! I killed 'em! There!-!" Flass yelled to the top of his lungs.

The courtroom ceased into complete silence from all sides.

"Loeb knew about it too!" Flass yelled, "Hell, he's the one who covered for me!"

"Why you lil shit!" Loeb growled, but was held down by one of the thugs.

"Why?-!" Gordon demanded as he pulled him in closer. "Why'd you do it, Flass?-!"

"Ugh! Why not?-!" Flass argued, "Look at us, Jimmy! We're nothin' but a laughing stock in our own damn city! No one takes us seriously anymore, not even the mob or petty thugs on the streets! People needed to know that _we_ are the law in this hell hole! That if you cross us, or even look at us the wrong way, you could get one right between the eye! _THAT'S_ respect, Jimmy! That's what we—"

Flass was silence by a fist slammed right into his jaw. It hit so hard, that it almost could have knocked his head off if it wasn't attached, but nonetheless knocked him and his chair onto the ground. The impact was hard, but Flass was still conscious as he groaned in pain.

"No, Flass! That _isn't_ respect!" Gordon roared as he took a knee towards him. "That's being a coward! That's believing that you need a gun and one in the chamber to make a difference! We're suppose to be peace keepers, not stoop to the level of criminals to bully people! And now because of that violent mentality of yours, we're in this situation—outnumbered and tied to chairs, while they kill us off one by one! Branden and his men, the officers in the weapon's cash...Sarah...all of their blood is on _YOUR_ hands."

There was nowhere for Flass to turn to. He had confessed. Not only did he confess in front of Gordon, but to multiple witnesses who will testify against him. He'll be stripped of power, and will face jail time if things go right. It wasn't much to Gordon in trying to fix Gotham, but it was a start in the right direction.

"Ahem."

All eyes settled back on Anarky, who watched the entire scene take place with much amusement.

"It appears you've bestowed your form of justice onto that sack of trash with a badge down there. I like you, uh, Jim was it?" Anarky said as Jim rose up to look towards him, "You're one of the few good police officers here, I can tell. You must be absolutely miserable here, in a city that won't quit. To have to try and be upstanding in a world gone mad, and all you have to relay on is an indescribable will to do what's right. I feel the same. It's baffling, really. I'd only heard myths and rumors of _ACTUAL_ good cops, but it appears some hold truth."

Anarky stood up and leaped off the podium, into the middle of the courtroom. "So how about this; leave these putrid filth's of degenerates, and come with us. Join us in _really_ cleaning up Gotham's mess. We'll start a new trend of people, _actual_ , decent people, taking justice into their own hands. We'll create a revolution that will shake the world! What do you say?"

Anarky gave his hand out for Gordon to shake. Gordon only looked at it for a moment, before looking back up at Anarky. Gordon slowly reached for it in a motion to shake it.

"Don't do it, Jim!" Flass yelled. "If you side with that freak, you'll be no better then he is! You shake that hand, and we'll hunt you down!"

As much of an ignorant fool Flass was, he was right. Gordon thought about it hypothetically though. If he truly was to join with Anarky's forces and teach them a better means of doing some good in Gotham, then they would probably be able to clean up these streets better then any of the corrupt law officers ever could. They're not easily swayed by drugs, money, or other valuables. They wouldn't gun down innocent people like one of the officers would. There could actually be something to joining his side...

...at least that's what he thought before he immediately thought about Barbra.

What would she think if she found out he had joined a murderous gang of misfits in order to save Gotham? How would their daughter feel if one day, her father didn't walk through that door to pick her up, and hold her in his arms? In his mind, Gordon already imagined her voice, telling him " _GCPD and Anarky's thugs are no different in corruption. The difference is without you, one can be changed for the better, while the other will just get worse. The question is; which one is which?_ "

Gordon didn't have an immediate answer and probably never will...so why not go with his gut.

Gordon seized Anarky's hand and forced him to turn around to snap a pair of handcuffs around his wrists. The second he did this, the rest of his men stood up, ready to attack.

"W-What're you doing?-!" Anarky exclaimed.

"Picking a side." Gordon answered.

Anarky broke from Gordon's grasp and faced him once again. "It appears I was wrong about you...! Take him!"

The goons began making their way towards Jim, who slowly backed away from them. If it came down to it, Jim was going to have to fight. There wasn't nearly enough bullets to shoot them—not that he would stoop to _that_ right away. But fighting twenty men was out of his area. If he _WAS_ going to make it out of this alive, he was going to need help.

He quickly reached into his pocket and grabbed the communicator that the Bat Man gave him. He looked at the screen were a large button appeared. He didn't know whether he was actually crazy to believe some weirdo dressed in a black cloak with horns, but given the situation, he didn't have a choice anymore.

"You better not screw with me..." Jim uttered.

He pressed the button, and a loud chime came from it. He waited for something to happen, or some form of miracle to appear.

Nothing. All was silent as the thugs continued approaching him.

"You son of a bitch..." Gordon muttered bitterly.

He was now backed up to the podium with nowhere else to turn. He mentally cursed himself for actually believing some costumed nut job to come through for him in such a dire situation such as this. If he made it out of this somehow, he swore he was going to hunt him down, and kick the crap out of the Bat Man himself. All he had left on him was his gun to protect him now.

The tension grew as their foot steps grew louder. They began to resemble that of a storm brewing with each step they took. The foot steps grew, and grew, and grew. It was at that point that Jim realized that the thunderous sound that intensifying wasn't at all the thug's footsteps, but something larger approaching. Was it an Earthquake? No, the entire building would be shaking if it were some kind of natural disaster coming their way. Soon, everyone began to notice the rumbling approaching—including Anarky, and his own men. Everyone looked around for what could be the cause of all the commotion.

It came in the form of off distance chirping slowly approaching from outside the windows. It seemed to have even overshadowed the pouring rain. It grew louder, and louder like a train was in route towards the building. All eyes turned towards the upper widows of the courtroom in anxious anticipation for what was about to strike them all.

"What the hell is that...?" Anarky questioned.

Gordon could only form one word to summarize it all; "My backup..."

Without warning, the windows were broken through as millions upon millions of swarming bats flew right into the building. The entire courtroom exploded into screams of terror as the bats roared the siren calls of squawks that could turn a man deaf. They bats completely overwhelmed Anarky's forces and had even overwhelmed the GCPD officers themselves. Arnold shrieked as he was unable to even cover his face from the swarm of bats biting at his face. Loeb was able to have the knife off his neck, and ran off, out of the courtroom. Anarky screamed as he tried to make it to the door, but was bombarded by the flying rodents until they had successfully knocked pushed him away and onto the ground in cowering fear.

Gordon was let off easy, as one of the bats hit him square in the face, and knocked him to the ground. He groaned as he began to lose consciousness. His vision was blurring from his glasses knocked off, but before he had finally succumb to drifting off to sleep, he swore he saw a giant bat appear from nowhere, and descend upon the courtroom.

He could barely form a smirk on his face with the last of his energy; "Now you're just showin' off..."

And with that, Gordon had fallen into unconsciousness with the raging sounds of swarming bats slowly drifting into white noise.

* * *

Hours had passed since the takeover attempt in GCPD, putting over half the officers and all of Anarky's men in inflatable hospital tents outside the GCPD Building due to bat bites and vaccines administered right there on the scene. Never did so many people have difficulty sitting, statistics said in the papers. It certainly didn't help the GCPD's image as protectors of Gotham, that's for sure. All the bats were apprehended by animal control and were going to be shipped back to their natural habitats. No one knows how or why they all suddenly appeared the way they did, and will probably forever be baffled. Of course, already rumors were spreading that it had to do with the Bat Man.

Gordon was lucky to have not received a single bite from the bats. The doctors said it was a miracle he was missed. Of course, he knew better then to believe that at all.

While the rest of the doctors were dealing with the rest of the patients, Gordon snuck out of one of the tents and wanted time alone. He made sure to tread carefully so as to not be spotted by any nurses.

"You made a mistake..."

Gordon was almost startled. He looked over his shoulder towards one of the hospital tents. He assumed that's where Anarky was lying in.

"Did I?" Gordon said, "You're a criminal, I stopped you. It's that simple."

"Ha...You think you got any right to be all high and mighty?" Anarky said bitterly. "You don't...none of us do...I was going to change Gotham...make it better...I was going to unify the poor and homeless to give them a better chance then the scraps this city, no, this government was throwing at them...you can't deny it...this city will forever be a stinking pit of big money tycoons who steal from the less fortunate. More innocent lives will be taken by the people you've decided to side yourself with. And now...now that the Bat Man has appeared, it won't be long now before something worse comes along, and bring a shadow of hate with them...this city will be doomed without me..."

Gordon snorted. "Trust me kid; after the stunt you pulled tonight, it would be more dangerous _with_ you."

Anarky stayed silent. Gordon assumed he was reflecting on what he had done. That was for the better, he supposed. A poor boy like him was probably exposed to something awful for him to be sent down on such a dangerous path. He needed to be guided back to a better calling. He needed to see that Gotham may be a mess now, but can be improved for the better.

Gordon turned to face the tent Anarky was in. "If you really wanna make a difference in this city...then our doors are always open after you do your time."

Anarky scoffed. "Me? Work with the corrupt system of GCPD? As if."

"It doesn't have to be corrupt...Like you said; I'm one of the good ones. Sometimes, all it takes is one man to make a difference...but it would be a hell of a lot better with two...think about it."

With that, Gordon left the young boy alone, and walked into one of the nearby alleyways—shrouded in the dark. He took in the light sprinkle of rain onto his skin like a cool shower to wipe away the grime of such a hectic night. He took out his pipe, while he leaned on the wall, and enjoyed a peaceful drag for once.

Gordon blew the smoke from his lips before saying; "Come on out. I know you're there."

From the shadows above, a lone figure dropped onto the ground, and stood up in front of the police captain. Gordon finally got a clear look at the urban legend himself as he walked from the shadows, and into the light of the full moon above. He revealed to be, not some dark shadow, or a demon, but instead a man—a young man, in fact, dressed in a dark grey, thin leather body suit that zipped up from the front. On his hands were a pair of long, makeshift, balistic gloves, while on his feet were long, black leather boots. Around his waist was a bronze-colored utility belt with many pouches. Over his shoulders was a long black cape, and what covered the upper half of his obvious Caucasian face was a black cowl with small horns sticking up like that of a demon's, or a bat. On his chest was a strange bat emblem in a yellow oval.

"Huh. So that's what you look like when you're not in the dark." Gordon said, "Not bad."

 **"How are they?"**

"They'll live. Anarky's boys are headed straight to Blackgate, while Anarky himself will get time in the Juvenile Detention Center. Luckily Sarah was alive. She said she was saved by some black shadow with pointed ears...thanks for that."

 **"And Flass?"**

Gordon was surprised he knew about that as well.

"Flass had confessed to doing the crime with half the police force there to hear it. Most likely, he'll be judged in court and face jail time along with being kicked off the force. Commissioner Loeb, being an accomplice, will most likely be _de_ commissioned..." Gordon sighed as he massaged his temple. "God, everything's goin' to hell—and in one night, no less...I dunno what's gonna happen now."

 **"We'll get through this. One step at a time."**

" _We_?" Gordon said, "Listen, I appreciate your help, but there is no _we_. Don't expect this to be an every-night thing. You helped me in the courtroom and those thugs in the parking lot; that's it. I don't think I'll need to rely on you—"

 **"There was a bomb."**

Gordon's eyes widened the moment he said that. He looked towards The Bat to make sure he heard right. "Excuse me?"

 **"Under the GCPD building, Anarky had set up a fail-safe bomb in case his plans didn't go the way he expected. The blast radius was strong enough to wipe out the entire building. He was planning to take thousands of lives with him in a fiery explosion, with a nuclear fallout that would have killed millions more and quarantined the city."**

Gordon swallowed. "Uh...wow..."

 **"Don't worry. I was able synthesize it back to its core component, and disassemble the relay signal. He wouldn't have been able to start the countdown even if he tried. I already called bomb squad to remove it."**

"And when'd you have time to do all _that_?"

 **"A minute before I got to you in the parking lot earlier."**

He was fast, Jim gave him that. In fact, he was able to deactivate a bomb in half the time the bomb squad could. He also had a device that allowed him to create a sonar for bats to appear. It was clear to Jim that this _urban legend_ was more then what people gave him credit for. This individual was fully prepared to take down criminals, and save the people of Gotham from catastrophe when it rears. Maybe Jim could have been wrong for doubting the Bat Man. Of course the rest of the police force will take a while to come around to the same opinion.

"Alright, alright...maybe you _can_ be of some help to me..." Gordon admitted, "But...you have to promise me something."

 **"And that is...?"**

* * *

 ** _EIGHTEEN YEARS LATER_**

* * *

Another drizzling night in Gotham.

Another night that forced Jim to stay cooped up in his office to handle more reports on new apprehended criminals. He skimmed through all of them in complete boredom. None stood out to him anymore. The criminal mugshots didn't have the flare of the Riddler, or the unique features of Two-Face. Hell, none even had the ear-to-ear grin of _that_ psychotic bastard. Bore, bore, bore. Gordon hadn't recalled ever being so bored of seeing ordinary criminals. He almost wished there was a robber who had a little more taste for the theatrical like the usual rogue gallery. But he supposed not everyone has life-changing experience to set themselves onto the path of costumed hijinks.

He put the mugshots down and took a look at the picture of his loving daughter smiling back at him. She had grown so much into a beautiful woman, just like her mother. Even as she sat in her wheelchair, she looked like an angel. It was a shame about what had happened to his wife. She missed her so much, and so did he. It was even more difficult when he remarried, but she was able to accept Sarah into the family.

He put the picture down and looked throughout his office at the achievements he'd made so far. Winning awards, taking pictures with famous individuals, and of course, his plaque as recognition of being promoted to Commissioner. Hell, he even got to take a picture with a famous architect woman whose been getting plenty of attention as of late. Jim always did find her to be very mysterious; a _wonder_ almost.

A knock was heard at the door.

"Come in."

The door opened, and in walked a husky man, only a few years younger then Gordon. His hair was a black shade, opposite to Gordon's full head of white hair, and his coat was dirt ridden, and splattered with doughnut stains on the pockets. He looked as though he was drenched from the rain outside.

"Oh, it's you Bullock." Gordon said nonchalantly.

"Gordon, what're ya still doin' cooped up in here?" Bullock asked, "you got the night off, remember? I told ya I could handle all this paperwork you got piled up."

"You? If I recall, your the type to say you'll do the work, but then nothing gets done and I have dirty fingerprints all over the files." Gordon smirked. "I actually like my stuff to be organized and sprinkles free."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Bullock sassed as he leaned back on Gordon's desk—making it tilt. "Y'know, one of these days, you're gonna be lucky to have such a good partner like me who looks out for ya."

"Oh, believe me; I count every blessing..." Gordon said, rolling his eyes. "I suppose some time off wouldn't hurt. But first I gotta make one last trip up on the roof, if you catch my drift."

Bullock sighed. "Fine, go see ya _secret friend_ , but after that, go home. Spend time with ya daughter or somethin'."

"I will. Thanks Bullock." Gordon said as he rose from his chair. He walked over to grab his coat from the hanger, and strolled out of his office. GCPD went about its normal routine as always with people talking and laughing with one another, phone calls being answered, and the bets some of them would joke about on who was the hottest Gotham bad girl. Most of them agreed on Catwoman for obvious reasons. Gordon could only chuckle to himself.

He pressed the elevator button and only needed to wait a few seconds for the elevator to travel down and open its doors.

"Commissioner Jim!"

A familiar male voice called him from behind. he held his hand on the elevator door and turned around to see a younger man then Jim who looked in his early thirties. He had brown, short hair and big, green eyes. He seemed to be dressed in his best brown suit even though his well-trained figure made it seem a bit too tight on him.

"Oh, Lonnie." Gordon greeted, "'bout to head out?"

"Yeah. Since there's not been any need for the Gotham S.W.A.T team in the last week, me and the boys figured it we'd all go out for a drink. Care to join us?"

"You all have fun, I wanted to head on home to my family tonight." Gordon said, "You boys stay safe out there."

"We will." Lonnie nodded.

He turned and walked back into the crowd of other officers to continue his discussion about the best looking Gotham female villain. Gordon had watched him conversate and laugh with the rest of them—it was amazing how much he had grown in the years he's been on the force. To think, so many years ago, he tried to take over the entire GCPD building. Gordon assumed the words he told him long ago had a lasting impact on his sense of morality. It was a discussion that Jim would always remember every time he saw Lonnie. And it was a word he would always remember to keep in trying to make Gotham a better place; one step at a time.

Gordon walked into the elevator, and watched the door close and travel up towards the roof. Gordon had a feeling it would be a bit chilly up there and slipped on his coat that he's had for years. It always reminded him of Barbra, which was probably why he was never able to part with it, despite how tattered and rumpled it had gotten over the years.

The elevator stopped with a loud chime, and opened. Jim was immediately met with a light drizzle of rain and a predictable breeze of cold air to blow through. He strolled out of the elevator as it closed behind him, and walked all the way towards the edge of the safety bars to watch the beautiful city at night. Despite Gotham's bad reputation and even worse status quo when it came to crime, he had to admit; the city never looked so good until tonight. Maybe it was the light rain that seemed to have washed away most of the grime that would linger over it. Perhaps it was from the quiet that Gotham had been able to saver for the time being. Or maybe, a certain _urban myth_ was patrolling tonight to make sure the bad guys stay at home, under the covers in fear.

Jim smirked as he didn't bother to even look over his shoulder. "Come on out. I know you're there."

Suddenly appearing from almost out of nowhere, was a familiar presence to Jim. He walked over to where the Commissioner was and stood next to him in watching the city from afar.

 **"To this day, I still don't know how you do that."**

"Dumb schmucks may not see you comin', but I can from a mile away." Jim said.

He thought he was imagining things when he noticed the aroma of coffee beans. He looked over to Batman's side to see that he was holding two cups of coffee; one for himself, and another held out to him.

"Thanks." Jim said, as he took the cup. He had taken light sips of the hot liquid with a satisfaction to combat such a chilly, drizzling night. "It's pretty quiet tonight."

 **"Hopefully it stays that way."**

"Please. Gotham? Stay quiet? That's a laugh." Gordon snorted, "But every now and then, a lil peace and quiet doesn't hurt." It was at that moment that a thought popped into Jim's head. "Say, if I recall, tonight marks the first time we ever met face-to-face."

 **"Yes, it is."**

"Yep, that was a wild night...but we pulled through somehow, and continue to do so...you still remember the promise you made in that alleyway?"

 **"Of course; to never judge Gotham, but instead, help it to reach the better city it _can_ be."**

Batman downed the last of his coffee and sighed in relief.

 **"Something tells me we'll be doing this for a very long time, Jim."**

"Of course. We're Gotham's first line of defense. If we're gone, who knows what this city would become." Jim said as he turned to Batman. "It's what we have to—"

Once again, Jim ended up talking to himself as he saw nothing but thin air and an empty coffee cup standing on the ground. He sighed as he bent over to pick up the cup and finish off the rest of his own.

He took one last look at the city afar with a wide smile on his face.

"I love this damn city..."


End file.
